Under the blue moon
by Malefiquinn
Summary: Bill Adama and Laura Roslin had a relationship and broke up years ago, it just wasn't the right time. But now fate has intervened: Sometimes it takes only a little push to get back on the right track. Other times, only the end of the world will do.
1. All of this has happened before, part 1

First of all, big thanks to my awesome betas WeAreCylons for proofreading this chapter.

Disclaimer: All these characters are property of Ron D. Moore, I own nothing. I just borrowed them in a while.

It's worth mentioning that even though this is an AU story I've used details up to Daybreak, so spoilers are to be expected. You've been warned ;) Enjoy!

* * *

 _People say you only live once, but people are as wrong about that as they are about everything._

::::::::::

When the speakers of Fleet Headquarters called his name, Captain Lee Adama groaned once more. It seemed like everybody wanted to chase him down lately: he left his girlfriend back in Caprica City after promising they'd talk about their future when he got back, before literally running away from her. The Fleet ordered him to attend his father's retirement ceremony as part of the decommissioning of the ship he was in command of, which was the last thing he wanted at the moment. And now there was something else, Lee knew it. Why couldn't he simply be left alone for a few hours?

The communications officer informed him of a pending personal call and offered him a receiver, along with the name of the caller. Fortunately for Lee, it was the only person he would've liked to speak to.

And so, he picked the receiver up with a grateful sigh. "Hi, Mom."

"Lee," she said. "How are you?"

"I'm... fine, Mom," he lied. He wasn't ready to tell her about the mess in his love life.

But she knew him too well not to pick up his doubt. "Are you, honey? Really?"

"Yes Mom, I'm okay," he assured her. "I'm sorry, but is there a particular reason for your call? You know we don't get much spare time around here."

There was a brief moment's pause, the only sound coming from the woman's breathing on the other side of the line.

"There is, actually. You'll be on _Galactica_ 's decommissioning tomorrow, right?" she asked.

"How do you know that?"

"I asked the Admiralty to let you go. As a favor. I want to see you." _And I'd rather not deal with your father on my own if I can_ , she added in her mind.

"Wait, _you're_ going? Why?" he asked, puzzled.

" _Galactica_ is being turned into a museum by my ministry and as secretary, I have to attend the ceremony," she said. "Weren't you aware of that?"

Lee remained speechless for a couple of seconds, as if processing the news. Then a new, _big_ question popped into his mind.

"Does Dad know?"

"Of course he does, honey. Which is why I'd prefer if you went as well."

"Yeah, Mom, I don't think me being there will change anything. You know I'm not exactly on speaking terms with him."

"Neither am I," she joked. "But at worst, we'll be uncomfortable together." She then stroke a more serious tone as she continued, "And it'll mean a lot to him to see you there."

"Okay..." he agreed. It wasn't like he had any say on the matter anyway.

"And Val is going too."

"Val?" A faint smirk appeared in Lee's features. "I should've guessed she wouldn't miss it."

His mother chuckled. "Of course she won't."

"Okay. See you in a few hours, Mom."

Lee could almost hear her grin on the other side of the line. "See you tomorrow, honey."

::::::::::

Commander William Adama had been counting down the days until the decommissioning for weeks. It was the most dreadful day in his entire calendar for all that it represented: saying goodbye to his career, his ship, his crew. The military life he'd been accustomed to for so long.

And being forced to speak with his ex-wife again only made it worse.

But as the day came, he had come to terms with it. It wasn't what he wanted but after the mission aboard the Valkyrie, it certainly was the best retirement he could have hoped for. His real objection was _Galactica_ 's final destiny— a museum, of all things; letting the Ministry of Education take control of the Old Girl was not what he wanted for his battlestar.

Still, there was nothing he could do against it. _At least_ Galactica _will not be scrapped apart_ , he kept reminding himself. CIC was eerily quiet this morning as he mentally practiced his speech one more time, and it wasn't until Dee received word of the arrival of the special guests that he moved out of his post. Not even when Lee came aboard just a solid half an hour before.

All Bill wanted was to drag his feet back to his quarters, but instead he purposefully strode along the way to the hangar bay: as the commander of the battlestar, he _had_ to greet the secretary of education in person. He caught up with her and Doral —the man sent from Public Relations to mess up with _his_ ship—, in a corridor, already talking about the retrofits implemented to meet the new purpose... And the very second he laid eyes on her, under the fluorescent light of the passageway, he had to stop dead on his track: she was exactly like Bill remembered.

Though, granted, he'd seen her on newspapers and TV news from time to time on his shore leaves, but it had been a while since meeting her in person.

Laura Roslin was a beautiful woman, as proper as one would expect from a member of the presidential cabinet, dressed up in a business suit both formal as to the occasion as well as not overdressed for the event. Adama distinguished the pair of creamy white legs he knew from memory and found himself staring at them for a couple of seconds before snapping back to reality; he had loved those legs long before loving their owner.

Still he also got a record of where they disappeared, a lavender —maybe purple— skirt with flowers in the hem, her curves around her hip and waist, her cleavage tucked behind the suit jacket, and her attractive face framed by short auburn curls. And again, those _legs_...

Laura stopped in front of him, followed by Doral, and she locked eyes with Bill as if challenging him to say anything out of place. He wouldn't of course, she didn't need to worry; instead, the commander offered his right hand to her before speaking. "Welcome aboard _Galactica_ , Madam Secretary," he greeted her in the most professional manner he could muster.

Some part of him wished Laura would deny his gesture, but he knew well that wasn't an option. Laura was a professional. She shook his hand with little uncertainty but withdrew her own as soon as she could, a tiny detail he was sure only someone who had known her for years could have noticed.

"Thank you, Commander," she said. Bill also acknowledged Doral with a nod in his direction. "Can we go through some of the logistics before the ceremony?" she asked then.

"Of course," he agreed. "Though Mr. Doral here has been supervising the changes in person for two weeks, I'm sure his input will be much deeper than mine."

Bill was giving her an out, to make the procedure less awkward if she wanted to. But alas, she had a lot going through her head to even bother. "Actually, I want to talk to you about some... _constraints_ Mr. Doral has found aboard this ship. He can accompany us," she determined.

Bill nodded and extended his arm toward the end of the hallway, inviting her to keep walking, which she did. He had an idea of what she was referring to.

He was correct.

::::::::::

When the secretary of education boarded _Galactica_ in search of the commanding officer, a young girl followed the group for a few minutes and until they fell out from the hangar bay and unto the maze of corridors that composed the battlestar. She had no intention of losing time aboard the vessel because of formalities just yet.

So she found an officer in blue uniform and approached him while the rest of the retinue, guided by Doral, kept walking out of her view. "Hello," she said. "Do you happen to know where to find Captain Lee Adama? He must have arrived some time ago."

"Captain Adama?" the man repeated. He either had no idea who she was referring to, or thought her confused on the title and talking about the commander.

"Yes, Captain Adama. Commander Adama's son." Then added, "He's here for the ceremony."

The officer's eyes widened slightly in understanding. He nodded. "I don't know for sure, Miss, but he might be in the ready room with the rest of the pilots."

"Can you point me there?" she asked.

The man told her to follow the hallway to the second exit to her right, then turn and go straight ahead until a hatch with the words _Ready Room_ printed on it came into view. She thanked the young officer and kept walking; the instructions were clear and she was close enough to her destiny not to get lost on the spaceship. But since the hatch was closed and the sound of voices came from inside, she had to wait until the air wing of _Galactica_ finished the briefing.

She stayed by the entrance when most of the pilots left talking between themselves a few minutes later, until she found a pair of blue eyes remarkably similar to hers inside the emerging crowd.

"Hi, stranger," she said when he passed by, a smile on her face. At the sound of her voice, Lee turned around, took her in and grinned as well.

"Val!" He gave her a kiss on her cheek as he approached. "Mom told me you were coming."

Born four years after Lee, Val Adama had the same wavy, long, dark red hair as her mother, along with her nose, lips and white-ish skin, yet hers was tanned a tone darker. In contrast, Val had inherited her father's blue eyes, a rigid jawline that grew harsher whenever she got upset, his same posture and gaze. The girl irradiated a certain determination and stubbornness for her young age, no doubt learned from her parents.

"You know I wouldn't miss it. _History being made_ , remember?" she joked. "Plus, it's Dad's retirement ceremony too. I haven't seen him in a while."

"Of course, Dad," he echoed.

Val saw the discomfort on her brother's eyes and rolled her own, incapable of understanding the strained relationship between the two. Sure, she didn't have the best relationship with her father either, but hers was a field trip compared to Lee's.

But she knew it was better to just let it slide, as always. "Anyhow, since all battlestars share their core design, mind giving your little sister a tour? If you have the time, that is," she added.

"Actually, can you wait on that and come with me to the brig? There's someone else I want to say hello to."

"To the brig?" Val asked and he nodded. "Okay, I'll take my tour there for now. Who is it?"

"You already know her," Lee admitted. "Kara Thrace."

Val blinked twice before speaking. " _The_ Kara Thrace? Zak's Kara?"

"The one and only," Lee said. "She was assigned to _Galactica_ a few weeks after the funeral."

"I didn't know that," she told him. "And speaking of things we don't know, a word of advice: be careful when you speak to Mom. She's... distracted. I suppose the teacher's strike worsened this morning." Val sighed. "I couldn't get any details out of her on the flight here."

Lee frowned. "And speaking with Dad won't help at all."

Val shook her head. "I guess not. Let's just hope there's no reason for them to disagree here."

::::::::::

"So you're still afraid of computers," Laura remarked wryly, a somewhat polite smile on her face.

Which was, at best, utterly exasperating for her. Bill had told her many times about his adventures during the Cylon War, but the Colonies had come a long way since then; surely networking the computers aboard the ship wouldn't be so bad, right? She understood his paranoia given what he had gone through, but _Galactica_ was not going to be in service any longer. She was to be a museum now, nothing else!

Still, she had to admit this was the same stubborn Bill Adama she had married almost three decades ago. The stoic expression on his face, the wear and tear of his rough and manly features, his olive skin and what appeared to be the same firm muscles she had retraced with her fingertips many times, barely noticeable underneath the uniform— it was like talking to a living memory. The only change since then was the specs of grey in his hair.

But Laura's mind was in no position to reminisce about her failed marriage at the moment: The president wanted her resignation for her decision to take the _citizens'_ side. She had been diagnosed with what could only be described as terminal cancer just before leaving Caprica, without any chance to come to terms with it yet. Her mind had spent the whole flight spinning around the tribulations her children ought to have ahead... and yet there she was, aboard an almost derelict battleship, trying to convince the stubborn soldier of her ex-husband to _frakking link their computers together_. Oh, Laura would've given a lot not to mind her tone and just tell him to shove it up his ass.

Instead, she tried to ease the building tension with a joke nothing close to ill-intended. And it was backfiring spectacularly, but she had to insist nonetheless: the teachers would appreciate to have a linked network to guide them and the tourists around a huge vessel as _Galactica_.

"Many men and women lost their lives aboard this ship because faster computers were created to ' _make life easier_ '. It would be an insult to them to go through the same path instead of leaving everything as it is," he explained.

His argument was compelling, Laura had to admit that. She didn't agree with it —after all, what better way to honor the loss of lives than to ensure history be taught instead of forgotten?— but she knew already there was no way to change his mind, not when the Cylon War was involved. Bill Adama felt too strongly about the subject.

"I'm sorry that I'm inconveniencing you or your teachers, but I will not allow a network computerized system to be placed on this ship while I'm in command. Is that clear?" he said.

Well, that was it, wasn't it? The matter would have to wait for a while to be sorted out, until he was no longer in command. The transition would be harsh, of course, but once _Galactica_ had served as a museum for several months, Laura was sure she would get her way with the network system: the ship would be effectively out of Adama's reach by then.

Her stomach shivered at the thought. _By then_. Maybe at that point it would be her successor's fight instead of hers: even if the cancer was gracious enough to let her go back to work several months from now, the president might not be so kind. The teacher's strike could be destined to claim someone's head, and if that was the case Laura knew it was hers. Adar always emerged from the political turmoil without even a scratch and that was no coincidence.

A good politician was prepared to let go of cannon fodder when necessary.

And one of the things she had learnt in her political career was that _anyone_ could become cannon fodder when necessary.

 _One fight at a time_ , Laura reminded herself. There was no point in dwelling on it for now: once she was back on Caprica, she would have all the time in the world to think about how to get the president back to his senses. And if not... how to fight back with claws and teeth.

"Yes, sir," she said and with that, Bill excused himself and left.

"Perhaps you would like to see your guest quarters?" Doral asked a while after the commander had stormed out of view. Laura nodded and followed the man through the maze of corridors until he stopped at a particular hatch. "You can call the kitchen and have food delivered whenever you want to with the comm system inside. If that'll be all, I'll see you at the ceremony tomorrow. Unless you'd like a tour around first."

"I would like that," she agreed.

"All right. I'll tell the... commander." Laura felt how uncomfortable he was about the last exchange between her and _Galactica_ 's CO, but there was nothing neither could do about it. As a member of the cabinet, protocol dictated that Adama should be the one accompanying her if available. "We have a press conference in fifteen minutes with him and his son, Captain Apollo, but I believe he'll be able to walk you around after that. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

She hoped the man didn't pick her blinking twice at the mention of Lee. The less people knowing hers and Bill's past, the better.

"Yes, two more things. It seems I've lost my aide," she said. The young man had gone missing a while ago, where was he?

Doral looked around in confusion, as if he was just then noticing the absence. "I'll tell the marines to look for him and bring him here," he agreed.

"Thank you. Could you also tell Captain Adama that I need to speak to him once you're done?" she asked. If Doral had been confused before, he seemed utterly lost now.

"Of... course," he said. He then told Laura he would be back in an hour or two with the commander for the tour, or even less if he happened to stumble upon her aide before the marines. With a few words of appreciation, she disappeared into her quarters as Doral closed the hatch behind her.

It wasn't the first time she'd been on a battlestar, not even the first time she'd been aboard _Galactica_ , but it surely felt like it. She had seen from a hangar bay all the way to CIC four years after the Cylon War, when she was nothing but a student wanting to become a teacher and _Galactica_ was Caprica's pride and joy. There was a certain irony involved, as Laura had a successful career now while the ship went into a loud retirement. _Maybe it'll be the same for me when I get back. Full circle_ , she thought bitterly.


	2. All of this has happened before, part 2

Thank you all for the reviews, favs and follows! I wasn't expecting so many of them :D Hope you enjoy this one as well!

As always, thanks to WeAreCylons for taking the time to be my betas ;)

* * *

 _Fate leads those who follow, and drags those who resist._

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About an hour later, just as promised, there was a knock on the hatch. Laura had already spoken to Billy, who had finally settled in the adjacent quarters and explained how he had got lost in a few seconds, incapable of orienting himself on a ship. She had also seen Val a while ago, who had left once again to explore the battlestar and maybe find her father in the process to finally say hello.

Laura walked to the door — _hatch_ , it was called hatch— and unlocked it. She didn't find Doral in the hallway but rather a very familiar face.

"I'm looking for Laura Roslin?" Her son smiled.

She threw her arms around his neck. "Lee!" she greeted him, and embraced him fiercely.

"Hi, Mom," he said, hugging her as well.

Laura let him go a few moments later, and then proceeded to rearrange the collar of his formal greys, more out of habit than anything else as she didn't see a wrinkle anywhere. "Look at you, Lee. Your captain pins suit you," she remarked, pride coating her voice. "My Captain Apollo."

Yet Lee grinned shyly before closing the hatch again and following her mother to the couch inside her quarters. As soon as he was next to her, she took one of his hands between hers and tried to suppress a sigh.

"How are things with the teacher's strike?" he asked with concern, remembering his sister's words.

"It's taking a toll on my team, but nothing we can't overcome," she lied. There was a certain irony in the severity of those secrets now coiling in her stomach, all of them concocted after her call the night before; in those few hours she'd been informed that she was _dying_ , for the Lords of Kobol. But she decided this was not the place and she was in no condition to let her children know any of them yet. "I'm more concerned about you, however. Honey, if you don't feel as strongly about your place in the Fleet as your father does, it's time to start looking for something else," she admonished, mistakenly taking his doubtful gaze as a sign that his worries came from his service in the Colonial Fleet.

He threw a sharp breath. "Maybe, but not now. Speaking of Dad, I take it you've seen him already?"

"I have. And it went as well as you'd expect," she admitted. She offered a bittersweet smile along with her words.

Lee snorted, drawing a similar expression on his face. "Yeah, I know the feeling."

She pressed his hand gently.

"I wish you could forgive him, Lee. He's not responsible for what happened."

"He is, Mom. If he hadn't pulled his strings inside the Fleet, Zak would've never been admitted into flight school," he said.

But Laura merely shook her head. "If he hadn't helped him, Zak would've found another way to get in. He was the son of two very stubborn people, remember?" She sighed. "Your brother was determined to follow your father's steps, whatever the cost. It's not his fault."

"Do you really believe that?" Lee challenged. "What about his impossible-to-meet expectations about us being part of the Fleet, how it was the only career we could choose to make him proud?"

Laura took a few seconds to answer. She had also blamed Bill for filling her children's lives with an heroic figure they had been drawn to follow two years ago, for getting Zak into Fleet Academy when he had already been rejected, for not being able to disguise his disappointment when Val informed him of her university plans, for inadvertently convincing Lee to enlist on a future he didn't truly want in the first place. Her eldest had a tendency to over-intellectualize everything, and for some time Laura was convinced he would actually follow in _her_ footsteps and become a teacher, or maybe his grandfather's and choose a career in Law. None of that had happened, of course, but in the time since Zak's death, the woman had made peace with most of it: she knew Bill had acted wrongly but in good faith, and she also knew he was as devastated as she was by their son's passing. Laura simply could not hold a grudge on a man as broken as her.

"That was not his intention, Lee," she finally remarked. "He learned to accept Val's History degree in the end, for instance."

"He always lets Val off the hook because she's the youngest," he interrupted.

"Whatever the case, he's trying. And he misses Zak as much as we do," Laura concluded.

As Lee was about to protest again, however, a new knock on the hatch stopped him in his tracks. Laura let go of her son, got up from the couch, smoothed down her skirt and went towards the exit to unlock it. She found herself standing across from the commander.

He was either over their discussion or had really improved at pretending when he said, "Doral mentioned you want a tour?" But he soon noticed Lee's form getting up as well and added, "I can come back later."

"No, I was just leaving. I have to check the _illustrious_ Viper I'm flying anyway," Lee said. He then gave his mother's shoulder a gentle squeeze and walked out of the quarters without as much as a backward glance.

There was an awkward silence in the room.

"I tried," Laura informed him.

Bill nodded. "Thanks."

It was the first time she really took the time to notice _this_ William Adama. Impeccable uniform, down to polished buttons and boots, military-standard short hair combed into place, his hands resting together in front of him in a relaxed but measured gesture. He wasn't smiling but his eyes —Laura never forgot that deep, blue gaze— were softer than before, a feature she had found most intriguing since she first met him. How could a man that appeared to be in control over every aspect of his life look at her as if trying to reach common ground, instead of simply putting some effort into overwhelming her?

Of course she knew: he was barely in control of anything. Heartbroken by one dead son and another refusing his reconciliation attempts, while his only constant, an old battlestar, was being taken away and slowly being turned into a derelict attraction.

By her. The woman he'd been married to, a union that had gone down in flames seventeen years ago. Not that she had any saying in the decommissioning itself as opposed to the museum, but still...

And just then, she noticed the wedding ring resting on the man's finger.

Laura bit her lip, not knowing what to make of that. Val mentioned Bill meeting a woman after Zak's death but nothing about him getting remarried. Was it the same one she'd given him? It certainly looked familiar, but it was no proof as most wedding rings were virtually indistinguishable. And if that was the case, why was he still wearing it?

She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. It was best to concentrate on their professional link instead of their personal lives during her visit, that path would only lead to chaos. They had a task at hand and after the ceremony, they would part ways once again and get back to their tacit arrangement: only reaching out for the other if Lee or Val were involved.

"Can we get on with the tour, Commander? I appreciate you taking the time to show me around," she said. And she meant it.

Except Bill didn't notice. The word _Commander_ rang loudly in his ears, along with the fact that she had used his title even when they were alone. If that was the tone to be used between them, he would gladly oblige.

"Yes, Madam Secretary," he accepted, moving just enough to let her walk first.

Adama decided to start the tour over at CIC, also taking the chance to reintroduce her to Saul Tigh. She shook hands with the Executive Officer, who made very clear that he was not thrilled with her presence but was polite enough to not mention it aloud. Although the sentiment was echoed in several faces all over the place and Laura was not surprised, the crew did not want to say goodbye to their ship and she was the visible head of the government that was taking her away. But she showed no tint of remorse, guilt or apology in her expression: just as they had their jobs, so did she. In this particular topic, the secretary of education didn't call the shots.

"So this was the first ship you served on?" Laura asked a few minutes later, as they were walking down a hall towards their next destination. How on Kobol would the guides orientate themselves when each level — _deck_ , she corrected herself— was remarkably similar? And without the network!

"Yes it was. Caprica's flagship back in the day," he confirmed. Yet Adama's tone had grown almost imperceptibly bitter as they approached the starboard launch pod; they were standing in front of the Vipers and Cylon's display, the biggest change the soon-to-be-museum ship had gone through. As expected he hated everything about it, down to the frakking gift shop.

She waited for him to elaborate, but the commander said nothing. Laura paced along the closest models of the exhibit.

"Did you fly this type of Vipers?" She asked, waving in the general direction of the spacecrafts.

"Yeah, they are Mark II's. _Galactica_ is now fully equipped with Mark VII's, but these were top technology during the war. Lee is flying one of these for the ceremony."

"I see." She then looked to the robots encased in glass. "And these were the Cylons you fought?"

"They are." He was aware of her intentions of humoring him by asking things she already knew, as he told her about his service record years ago. She was trying to achieve some kind of mutual understanding, no doubt a vestige of her days as a teacher.

But he really had no intention of going through a charade like that. He had been the host protocol dictated and that was it, Bill certainly didn't want to play _'Getting reacquainted with your ex-wife_ ' at this particular point in his life.

"You suddenly care about the military now?" he remarked sharply. "Or just when it suits you?"

She shot him an exasperated look. "I hardly think this is the best place to talk about _us_ , Commander."

He knew she was right, of course. A couple of marines had accompanied them through the tour for safety reasons and while they were keeping a respectful distance and seemed out of earshot, he couldn't be completely sure of that. But he also knew there was no _us_ to talk about in the first place and so, rather than agreeing with her, Bill said the stupidest thing he could think of.

"How's Adar?"

He saw how Laura tensed her jaw before answering, catching his intention immediately: Bill was well aware of the extent of his ex-wife's relationship with the president. Was she going to deny it?

She didn't. Instead she raised her chin in a defying manner as she shot back, "How's Carolanne?"

Bill grunted. "Fair enough."

A new, awkward silence settled between them until the speakers required Bill's presence back in CIC. The commander was obviously relieved as he excused himself to deal with more last minute preparations for the next day, and Laura had to admit she felt the same. Her main intention with the tour was to get reacquainted with _Galactica_ , but some part of her had hoped that Bill and she could reach common ground again so that he would agree that the network should be put in place. It wouldn't be the case, however, not now and apparently not in the near future.

::::::::::

The ceremony itself was of little interest to Laura. Had it taken place a few days ago she would have been more attentive than just pretending to be, of course, but she had never been fascinated by the military life. It was an emotional procedure for the ship's crew, but for her... she understood why, just didn't share the feeling.

At least that was until Bill's speech. Laura could not help but notice how his words hit close to home, and made her remember the one person who was not present but the soldier and herself had in common.

"The cost of wearing the uniform can be high, but—" he suddenly paused and removed his glasses. He wasn't going to read anymore. "Sometimes is too high. You know, when we fought the Cylons, we did it to save ourselves from extinction. But we never answered the question, why? Why are we as a people worth saving? We still commit murder because of greed, spite, jealousy. And we still visit all of our sins upon our children. We refuse to accept the responsibility for anything that we've done. Like we did with the Cylons."

Laura searched her daughter's eyes, seated next to Billy on the second row of people in front of her. Val gave her a sideways glance before turning back to her father's features; she also seemed affected by the speech.

"We decided to play God, create life. When that life turned against us, we comforted ourselves in the knowledge that it really wasn't our fault, not really. You cannot play God then wash your hands of the things that you've created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can't hide from the things that you've done anymore."

It was clear that Adama was talking about Zak, the son he'd lost while in military uniform, and she felt pulled towards mutual grief. Yet Laura also thought of her father, her sisters, her beloved mother... even thought about that drunk driver that had obliterated her remaining family some years back. Did they actually deserve to survive, when there were so many irresponsible, reckless individuals such as that man? Was she running away, refusing to be held accountable for her actions? What was she doing to contribute to their redemption as a species?

She did have a new answer for that last question: fighting her own boss on behalf of the teachers' union was a good start, she believed, well aware Richard Adar did not share her best interest on the subject. Maybe he never did and she was just discovering it.

Laura was the first one to break into applause, much to the commander's surprise. But his heartfelt words stroke a fiber deep inside of her as she finally saw again the person behind the mask; he still existed, even though Adama was not interested in letting her know any more for obvious reasons. But there he was, the man she had known once.

Not that it mattered anymore. The decommissioning was almost over and Laura was scheduled to return to Caprica immediately after.

When Adama escorted Laura back to her transport, docked inside the landing bay of the battlestar, he was certainly pleased to do so. While her gesture during the ceremony didn't go unnoticed, he wanted to be alone now; he had few days left as the Commanding Officer of _Galactica_ and he certainly wanted to make the most of them.

"Thank you for coming, Madam Secretary," he said. And he couldn't stop himself from adding, "It was good to see you."

A surprised but soft smile crept into Laura's face. "Likewise, Commander. Good luck on your retirement."

Concluding with a handshake between the two, Laura boarded the _Colonial Heavy 798_ back to Caprica with her aide and the man from Public Relations. Val lingered a little longer just to give her father a farewell hug.

"My classes end in a couple of weeks," she informed him. "So I expect to spend a few days at your place once you've settled back in and I'm done with the exams."

Bill grinned. "Count on it."

Val gave him a kiss and boarded the spacecraft as well. Bill then tilted his head towards Lee as a form of goodbye, followed by the words ' _Take care, son_ ,' but made no attempt of physical contact. While he was aware the captain would not be coming back to _Galactica_ , he also knew Lee would not let him get any closer than he already was. At least he had seen his elder son again, even if his attendance had been mandatory and not guided by free will.

The commander watched them leave the battlestar with a handful of emotions flowing through his heart. That was it, the end of the line.

His retirement was awaiting him... He took certain comfort in knowing that there would be no more political crap in his future, either coming from the secretary of education or not.

Surely, Bill Adama wouldn't have to deal with Laura Roslin again for a while.


	3. All of this has happened before, part 3

Muggle life is a bitch sometimes, but I've finally managed to upload the next chapter! I have another one almost done now, so the next update won't take me this long ;) Enjoy!

Bear in mind that English is not my native language, which is why I'm so thankful of my beta Jules! All remaining mistakes are mine.

* * *

 _You get a wonderful view from the point of no return._

::::::::::

The commander's quarters were uncannily quiet when Bill went inside. Perhaps it was just his impression, an awful reminder his time on his ship was coming to a close. As he stood by the entrance with the hatch sealed, his eyes went from the painting by the sofa to his private quarters. There was a lot of packing to be done before leaving.

Bill sighed and unbuttoned his jacket as he crossed the room all the way to the desk, stopping just in front of it. The framed photograph his deck crew got him rested there— three small pairs of eyes plus his own looked back at him with his old Viper behind. The smiling, unabashed expressions of his kids was a vision he rarely saw these days.

He'd lost so much already. And he still had more to lose.

His last days on _Galactica_ had brought Lee back to him, but a proper conversation between the two was out of the question for the time being. Zak... Well, Zak. He had even been faced with his pragmatic ex-wife a few hours ago, and she was taking the Old Girl from him. Bill had never fought for custody of his kids, accepting since the beginning that Laura had a more reasonable life to raise them; how exactly had he lost custody of his battlestar to her too?

But at least he was still on speaking terms with Val. He knew it was far from perfect, but he took comfort in the fact that his youngest wanted to spend time with him in the following weeks. And there was Kara, the girl he considered his own after Zak's death; he had some good memories from the past two years thanks to her.

He pinched his nose and as the hand came down, he caught a golden reflection in one of his fingers. Bill stared at his hand and cursed under his breath; he'd completely forgotten to remove his wedding band, as he always did when he saw Laura. He knew she might misunderstand it, as rational as she was, and he didn't even know how to explain what the ring truly meant to him. He could only hope she didn't notice it.

Bill inhaled deeply, slowly filling his lungs to their whole capacity before exhaling again. He should begin packing... but there was enough time in the next three days for that. Putting it on hold until the very last minute —even after the ship's farewell party, perhaps— was something Bill was perfectly happy to do so.

After all he knew what his immediate plans ensuing the disembarking would be: after leaving _Galactica_ , Saul would drag him to Picon to find Ellen, most surely in someone else's bed. Bill would take his best friend to some sleazy bar to cool his heels off, and in the morning, Saul would accept Ellen back as if nothing had happened. He would then be free to return to Caprica and start his retirement for real by making _his_ that old —but hopefully cozy— apartment he rented just a few days ago. Carolanne had helped him find a place similar to what his own quarters on the battlestar were, and while she described it as _rustic_ and _in dire need of remodeling_ , Bill found it close enough by the photos she had sent him.

Truth was, he wasn't ready to be back on a planet. Hell, he'd never leave _Galactica_ if he wasn't ordered to. He had sacrificed so much for the Fleet to leave now— spending more time with his children as they grew up, for instance. His occasional visits on shore leaves could not make up for his prolonged absences.

But he would try his best to change it. Bill was not blind to the good side of retiring: living closer to his children and having more time to spend with them from now on.

He approached his bookshelf, took out a volume and walked back to his desk, where he turned the lamp on so it'd be easier for him to read. He opened the book by the first chapter as he sat down, but stared at the page a few moments before he began reading. He closed his eyes and some images from the ceremony came back— Laura Roslin's expression while he spoke, her eyes completely focused on his. There had been a time in his life when he would've given anything for Laura to take a tour aboard _Galactica_ with him... just not anymore.

But it was the best moment to get through the end of _Searider Falcon_ for the first time.

As he approached the third chapter, however, Gaeta's voice came through the comm unit on the wall. "CIC to Commanding Officer."

Bill frowned. Even with the decommissioning taken care of, _Galactica_ was supposed to have a couple more days of normal activities; nothing should be out of the ordinary as long as the CAP was out.

He laid the book on the table and picked up the receiver. "Adama. Go ahead."

The young officer spoke with a certain reluctance. "Sorry to disturb you, sir, but we've picked up a priority one alert message from Fleet Headquarters. It..." Bill felt a heavy sensation in his chest while Gaeta trailed off nervously. Lee was going back to Fleet Headquarters, but the flight to Caprica alone was more than five hours long, never mind to Picon. He shouldn't be there yet. "It was transmitted in the clear, sir."

"In the clear? What does it say?" he asked. The sensation turned into a knot at the base of Bill's stomach.

"It says... attention all Colonial units." Gaeta made another uneasy pause, and Bill held his breath. "Cylon attack underway. This is not a drill."

Bill stared ahead blankly for a moment, blood rushing to his head as he processed the news. _Cylons_. The message didn't say where, or how many. While all of his remaining family was still out in space. _Lee. Val._ His two kids trapped on a civilian ship with barely a Viper to protect them. And also... _Laura._ "I'm on my way."

::::::::::

Laura stared out the window as Billy talked, not really listening to her aide. Her gaze was locked on the Viper accompanying the transport, the old spacecraft flown by Lee.

She had to tell them.

"Excuse me," she interrupted the young man's monologue and headed to the washroom.

She saw her reflection in the mirror, pleased at how it didn't show how sick she was. She still looked like crap to her eyes, but neither Lee nor Bill had noticed... Val had spent more time with her but seemed unaware as well. She wanted to believe that was enough proof she could hide her illness for now.

Laura could not keep her children in the dark forever, though. She wanted to, to spare them the heartache that her decay would mean for them, but they both deserved to know. Once they set foot back on the Colonies... She pressed a hand to her left breast, her touch digging in deep until it hurt, until she felt it with her fingers. She caught her terrified gaze in the mirror as she choked down a sob. How could this have happened to her? She felt the foreign mass beneath her skin, a rock amongst the soft flesh surrounding it. She had been avoiding it for weeks now.

Lee and Val would notice eventually. They would know. Her eyes burned as she fought back tears, imagining how they would take the news. There was something poetic about being informed of her impending death shortly before a reunion with both her children and her ex, or maybe just a cruel irony from the Gods. The last time she had seen the three of them at the same time was at Zak's funeral; services like those have the tendency to bring people together.

So maybe that was it, maybe the timing was just perfect. With Bill's retirement, he was free to be there for their children during her own passing.

Laura was not extremely religious, but she caught herself praying for answers to the Lords of Kobol at that moment. It was a mixture of a petition, to give Lee and Val the strength to overcome her demise, and a request to either take her quickly or make it all disappear like a bad dream. Whatever happened to her now, she only wanted for her kids not to go through what she had experienced with her own mother's death.

There was no use in grieving inside the washroom at the moment, she'd have plenty of time for that after— whatever after she could get from that moment on. Gods. She closed her eyes to calm herself and steady her breathing before she gently unlocked the door and walked back to her seat. She found the captain of the ship addressing the passengers and Billy staring at him in concern. Even Val, who usually dozed off at some point during long interplanetary flights, was wide awake on the seat behind her aide.

"As we get more information I will pass it along to you. We appreciate your patience. Thank you."

"What's going on?" she whispered to Billy.

"I'm... not sure." A bolt of uncertainty flashed underneath her skin and she glanced out the window once more to make sure Lee was still out there. The back of the engines was all she could see but it was enough to reassure her, the white, blueish glow of burning tyllium framing the rear of the Viper. "There seem to be no communications coming from Caprica. But there should be, right? Is it a bad sign?"

"It might be a malfunction, Billy," she assured him, gently patting his arm as she tried to give him the assurance she didn't feel for entirely different reasons. "Don't worry about it. Captain Apollo and his Viper are still with us." The young man nodded, a glint of doubt still visible in his gaze. So Laura decided to let her new aide into her personal life in the hopes that the gesture would calm him. "I know he will keep us safe because Captain Lee Adama is Val's brother. He is my son too."

"I... thought it quite a coincidence when I heard your daughter's last name," he admitted shyly, having already filled the blanks. "It was weird that she was accompanying you to a standard ceremony for the Ministry."

Billy had learned about the extra guest just days before the decommissioning, when he had been assigned as her aide, and found it contradictory: The Laura Roslin he knew from the press didn't seemed the type to waste taxpayer money by dragging her offspring along on any occasion she got. And after meeting Val, he had realized she wasn't a spoiled brat either, so it finally made sense when he discovered she came with them for her father's sake and not her mother's. Billy was glad to be proven right, as he had the feeling he had gained a good boss.

"Then don't worry about it," Laura repeated. "I'm sure everything's fine."

::::::::::

As Gaeta called for Condition One throughout the ship, Bill became awfully aware most of his crew — _all_ of his crew, except for him and Tigh— had never been in actual combat situation before. He saw a crowd full of terrified expressions looking back at him, expecting an answer he didn't have. Each report that came after the first got increasingly worse.

The Colonel arrived with a faint frown in his face, but evidently not yet briefed about the attack. "What've we got? Shipping accident?" he joked as he stood next to Bill. A decommissioned ship wouldn't be on alert for a shipping accident. Adama merely gave him the reports without a word.

"Condition One is set. All decks report ready for action, sir," Gaeta informed.

"Very well."

Tigh widened his eyes as he read each document. "They can't be serious. This is a joke. Fleet's playing a retirement prank on you. Come on."

Bill slowly stared back at him. "I don't think so."

He picked up the receiver as Tigh looked at him in disbelief, and pressed the speaker option to get his voice to the entire ship. "This is the Commander. Moments ago we received word that a Cylon attack against our homes is underway." He did what he did best: trying to appear calm, to get his crew concentrated on the task at hand and not on their potential loses. "We do not know the size, or the disposition, or the strength of the enemy forces, but all indications point to a massive assault against Colonial defenses."

No one in CIC moved or even breathed as they took in the news, and by Bill's stern look, they knew he wasn't done yet.

"Admiral Nagala has taken personal command of the Fleet aboard the battlestar _Atlantia_ , following complete destruction of Picon Fleet Headquarters in the first wave of the attacks." He paused for a second time, and mentally thanked the admiralty for inadvertently getting Lee out of there. "How, why— doesn't really matter now. What does matter is that as of this moment, we are at war. You've trained for this. You're ready for this. Stand to your duties, trust your fellow shipmates, and we'll all get through this." _Give them as much confidence as possible. They're going to need it._

Even when Bill himself didn't feel he had much. "Further updates as we get them. Thank you." He dropped the handset back to its holding place and gave another look at the ocean of frightened faces around him. He needed to lead them now that he was sending them to war. Checking on Lee, Val and that spacecraft they were on would have to wait.

"Tactical: begin a plot on all military units in the system, friendly or otherwise." The way he delivered his orders didn't change, the composure masking the numbness inside. But at the same time, Bill felt the familiar rush of adrenaline from fear he'd been accustomed to during the Cylon War— the _First_ Cylon War. It was like greeting an old friend, someone to remind him exactly what to do to give his crew the biggest chance of survival.

"Yes, sir!" Gaeta exclaimed, immediately moving away from his view to follow his instructions.

"XO: we're in a shooting war. We need something to shoot." Bill turned to Saul, who was still staring at him, his uniform unbuttoned and a lost look on his face.

He snapped right away. "I'll check ammunition depots."

"Dee: send a signal to our fighter squadron. I want a report on position and tactical status. And get Lieutenant Thrace out of the brig."

"Yes, sir."

And just like that, the somber stillness of the room was lifted as people fell back into their duties, with sounds reappearing from footsteps, papers coming and going and voices fulfilling the orders given.

::::::::::

"Caprica has been nuked—"

"That can't be right—"

"He's got a wireless working, and they said—"

Laura ignored the deafening cacophony of dozens of voices speaking at the same time effortlessly, as her own worries —only enlarged by the proximity of her children— were the sole inhabitants of her mind, miles away from the here and now.

However, her relative peace did not last long. "Mom?" Val called behind her, her tone apprehensive. The voice brought her back to the spacecraft, and Laura blinked a couple of times as she registered the interruption. "Do you think... it's true?"

Laura's gaze fell once more unto the window and she sighed with relief: Lee's Viper was still out there. As she turned back to her daughter, her eyes found Billy's; a reflection of similar distress was painted all over his face.

"I'm going to see the captain and find out," she soothed them. "But it's probably a mistake."

She stood up and moved to the front of the ship. Her hands found the railing by the stairs and she paused for a second, her mind working as fast as it could. Caprica could _not_ be nuked, right? If there was some sort of attack, all military spacecrafts would be called back on duty and Lee was still out there, escorting the ship. And if there was an attack... they were at war. Her son would be... could— _die_. Laura shook her head, as if that was enough to keep that particular chain of thoughts away from her.

She resumed her journey by lifting her hand from the railway, only then noticing her white knuckles due to the force in her grip. _I'm supposed to go before Lee. I'm dying before Lee_ , she reminded herself. She wasn't going to be there long to survive another son.

Her footsteps slowly guided her to the cockpit door. Before she could knock, however, the captain appeared in front of her, his features pale as snow. Laura felt her own colors draining from her face. "Excuse me," she said politely, but didn't wait for a confirmation to step into the room. "One of the passengers has a shortwave wireless. They've heard a report that Caprica's been nuked," she continued.

The man met her eyes for the first time, fully acknowledging her presence at last. The blank expression on his face was all she needed as a response, even before he gestured towards the piece of printed paper on his hand, and her heart began pounding violently. "It has, hasn't it?"

He swallowed hard, trying to regain the ability to speak. "Caprica and other three colonies," he admitted. He then lowered his gaze back at the sheet of paper on his hand, now shaking without control; Laura tried to hold him steady before removing the paper. Her hand didn't leave his, clutching the other human being like her world had just been shattered.

And according to the report, it had.

"I guess I, uh, I should make an announcement," he spoke, but Laura didn't hear him. She had to read the printed message twice to accept what it said. _We're at war with the Cylons_ , she thought. _Gods, Lee._ If Zak had died during peacetime, who was to assure her Lee would survive the war? "Or..." the captain continued, clearly asking her for advice.

"Huh?" She snapped out of her thoughts. "I'll do it. I'm a member of the political cabinet. It's my responsibility," she uttered, and the pilot seemed relieved. "While I'm doing that, I would ask that you contact the Ministry of Civil Defense and see what we can do to help."

He nodded and released her hand, leaving her free to go back the stairs. The escort Viper was not in range with the cockpit's window, and a new uneasy feeling settled just below her throat. She needed to _see_ her son and make sure he was okay before... before she faced a group of terrified people just like her.

 _I don't have enough time to afford being scared_ , she told herself. With a deep breath, Laura made her way back to the passenger zone.


	4. All of this has happened before, part 4

This is a Colonial One-centric episode. Bill and Galactica are having the same crisis we know already.

As always, thanks to my beta Jules ;) Enjoy!

* * *

 _Sometimes you move a million miles an hour_ — _it doesn't catch up until you slow down again._

::::::::::

"Wait a minute, who put you in charge?" a voice questioned, and as he came forward Laura realized it was the man from Public Relations. She bit down her the first response that came to her mind, reminding herself how useful Doral had been on _Galactica_.

"The answer is no one," she agreed, "but this is a government vessel and I am the senior government official on board, so that puts me in charge. So how about you help me out and go down to the cargo area and see about setting it up as a living space."

Doral stared at her for a few seconds with incredulity, and soon enough opened his mouth to protest again. With a quick glance, Val made her way to the man before he said anything. "I'll help you," she offered, along with a polite smile as her gaze traveled to the end of the hallway and back to him in an inviting manner.

Laura gave her a grateful nod before turning her back on them to face the other passengers. "Everyone else, please: try and stay calm. Thank you."

She moved away from the crowd, with Billy walking behind her. When she got a satisfying amount of privacy, she turned and handed him the sheet of paper she had received from one of the stewards. "All right, this is the passenger manifest," she informed him, but Billy stared at the document blankly. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah. My parents moved out to Picon two months ago, to be closer to my sisters and their families, and their grandkids and— um..." She nodded in understanding, feeling a sharp surge of sadness for him. She knew how hard it was to lose their siblings all at once.

"Madam Secretary?" the pilot interrupted before she could figure out how to comfort her aide. The man was still by the doorway, expecting her to follow. "We've got your comm link."

Laura ignored the mixture of relief and terror threatening to make her legs falter and nodded, shooting Billy a quick smile and a single pat on his sleeve before walking after the pilot. She was once again guided to the cockpit, where the co-pilot stood at her presence and offered her his seat. Laura accepted without question; whatever she was to hear would certainly need her seated. He then gave her the headset and she took it, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

"This is Laura Roslin."

"Thank the Gods you're not here, Laura. Thank the Gods," a male voice answered, and she sank in her seat in despair. _Jack_. Jack Nordstrom, the subsecretary of civil defense. One of her friends in the cabinet. "Dust in the air, thousands of people wandering the streets."

She did her best to maintain an even tone as she spoke. "Jack." He didn't hear her over the rest of his mumblings. "Where is the president? Where is the president, Jack? Is he alive?" _Please, Gods. We need Richard right now._

"I don't know," he admitted, but before she had any sort of reaction, he added, "I think so. We hear all kinds of things."

 _Thank the Gods for small mercies._ The people in the Colonies needed their leader. "Have the Cylons made any demands? Do we know what they want?" she asked next. She wasn't even sure if Jack was finally quiet or the signal was lost, so she held her breath as she waited.

"No, no contact. I'm pretty sure of that." It was a reach, Laura knew. Making demands after bombing _one_ planet was logical, it showed what they were capable of, but four of them... the Cylons were aiming for something entirely different.

Her throat clenched. "Has anyone discussed... has anyone discussed surrender?" Richard Adar was a pragmatist; he would be fully aware there was no alternative at this point.

"After Picon was nuked, the president offered a complete, unconditional surrender. The Cylons didn't even respond," he said. Laura's hands felt numb in her lap. _This is no war, this is annihilation._

She had a realization then: wherever they were, they had to leave. Now. Run and never set foot on the Colonies again. Her heart sank; there was nothing she could do for Jack, or Richard, or any of the people currently alive on Caprica.

There was a sharp alarm coming from the monitor in front of the pilot and he suddenly stiffed at her side. Laura immediately turned to him in an unspoken question.

"Where? Uh, copy that," he muttered. "The Cylons have found us, there's an inbound missile." She didn't wait for the frightened expression of the man to feel her insides coil in an almost painful way— Lee was there to protect them, which also meant he would give his life for them if it came to that.

"Where the hell is our escort?" she asked as she leaned toward the windows. The dark, unyielding vastness of space showed no clue of her son's ship from where she was. And then to her left, out of nowhere— a cylinder-like object plunging in their direction, leaving a smoky trail on its wake; Laura blinked and when she stared again, Lee's Viper was upside down in between her field of view and the missile. It changed its trajectory to follow the Viper, who flew past them at ramming speed. "Oh my Gods," she whispered.

They didn't see the explosion nor felt it, the empty vacuum around them swallowing the event. Laura closed her eyes in anguish, but threw an urgent glance at the comm line when it came to life. "Kryptor, kryptor, kryptor. This is Apollo to _Colonial Heavy 798_ , I am declaring an emergency. Flight systems are offline. Need assistance."

"What do we do?" said the pilot. He stared blankly at the window, perhaps expecting some other ship to jump at that same time and help.

 _Are you frakking serious?_ she thought. "We go _get him_ ," ordered Laura.

::::::::::

When Lee came out of the Viper, Val was already waiting for him near its wing with Doral by her side. She hugged him close and desperate, too worried about her brother's well-being to notice the lack of damage on his ship.

"Are you all right? I was afraid when word came from upstairs, that you were being brought into the cargo bay," she explained. "What happened?"

Lee snorted. "I'm fine. A Cylon missile fried my systems. This museum piece can't handle anything as good as my Mark VII." As they separated, he also frowned. "Why were you here and not in the passenger area?"

"Oh." Val blinked. "I was helping Mr. Doral get as much free space here as we can."

"I wanted to talk to you about that, Captain," Doral interrupted. "Thank the Gods you're here. We could use you."

"Is there something wrong with the ship?"

Doral shot Val a sideways glance. "No, that's not it. Just, the more... _professionals_ we have on board, the better."

Lee did not catch his sister's sour look, but rather strode to where he supposed were the stairs. Val rushed to his side to point him in the right direction, fully conscious the man from Public Relations was still by her toes. She didn't have any problem with him tagging along... if he kept his opinions for himself.

Lee stopped briefly by some massive piece of equipment Val didn't recognize. "I didn't know _Galactica_ was getting stripped of these today," he admitted.

"Stripped of _what_ , exactly?"

"Its electric pulse generators... that battlestar really is a museum now," he explained as he resumed his pace.

When the little group returned to the passenger cabin, they found Laura sitting on a sofa and wearing a blanket instead of her jacket, with Billy nearby and the pilot by her side discussing over the ship's blueprints.

"Thanks for the lift," Lee said. He shook hands with the pilot then.

"I'm glad to see you're okay, Captain," Laura answered, and he gave her a thankful nod for still treating him like an officer given the situation. "Billy, can you start the cargo transfer and prep bay three— is bay three ready, Val?"

"It is, Mom."

"Good. Bay three for survivors, then?" Billy wrote down her instructions, nodded and stood up right away.

"I'm sorry, survivors?" Lee asked.

"As soon as the attacks began, the government ordered a full stop on all civilian vessels. So now we've got hundreds of stranded ships in the solar system; some are lost, some are damaged, some are losing power. We have enough space on this ship to accommodate up to five hundred people and we are going to need every bit of it." She stood as she spoke, and Lee nodded when he understood his mother's intentions.

"But we don't even know what the tactical situation is out there," Doral protested, and she stared at him incredulously for a moment.

"The _tactical situation_ is that we're losing, right, Captain?"

Lee didn't know what to say exactly, as the reports he got back in the Viper were severely fragmented at best. He would have had a better assessment of the information if there happened to be a battlestar in the vicinity, but that was not the case. So he slowly nodded again, this time reluctantly. "Right."

"So we pick up as many people as we can and try to find a safe haven to put down." Laura moved toward the cockpit, resolute to use the comm systems to raise as many stranded ships in the area, but as she got to the door frame she turned around looking at Lee. "I'd like you to look over the navigational charts for a likely place to hide from the Cylons." She then couldn't restrain herself and retraced her steps until she hugged each of her children with one arm, letting the blanket fall on the floor. "I'm so glad you're both here," she whispered. If they hadn't attended the ceremony... She let them go, trying to ignore her useless thoughts. "That's all."

::::::::::

As soon as they arrived back in the cockpit, the radio started beeping again. Laura took the seat behind the co-pilot this time as she stared out the window; the last alarm had been a missile after all. "What is it?" she asked when she didn't see anything outside, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"That bandwidth is reserved for extreme emergencies," Lee muttered, leaning towards it as the pilot opened the system to receive the message. They could all agree this _was_ a time of extreme emergency.

"...official notification broadcast as per section 35, article 17 of the Emergency Continuity of Government Act. All ministers, department secretaries, and division heads now go to Case Orange. Repeat. This is an official notification broadcast..." The pilot turned the volume down as the message began again, and Laura stared at the speaker feeling a chunk of ice in her gut. But— she had just talked to Jack, back on Caprica. She had just communicated with Caprica...

"It's an automated message," she finally explained. "It's designed to be sent out in case the president, vice president and most of the cabinet are dead or incapacitated." Her voice lowered as she thought back to the people she had worked with for the past years; all gone now. The pilots exchanged an overwhelmed look and Lee glanced at her with his mouth opened in shock. "I need you to send my I.D. code back on the exact same frequency."

"Yes, ma'am."

"D as in dog, dash, four-five-six, dash, three-four-five, dash, A as in apple." She stood slowly when she finished and nodded to the pilots. "Thank you." She walked to the exit but Lee stopped her for a short time, pressing his hand affectionately on her arm. Laura fought the burning in her eyes and offered him a small smile before resuming her way, Lee following along. She had been in deep discussion with the teachers' union barely two days ago, and there was this event with the Quorum on Canceron last week that all her colleagues had attended as well. Richard... she had disagreed with the guy on a frequent basis lately, but this?

Laura didn't notice when she started shivering, moving through the passenger cabin almost absentmindedly. She hugged herself as she spotted her daughter, who jumped from her seat when she saw the distress in their faces. Val handed her back the blanket and Laura wrapped herself in it.

"What happened?" She looked repeatedly between them as her mother fell onto the seat in front of her and Lee took the one next to hers. Laura was incapable of answering.

"The rest of the government... appears to be dead," Lee said. Val opened her mouth but said nothing, processing the news with silent understanding. He then turned to Laura. "Mom..." he began, dreading to even ask. "How far down?"

"Forty-third in line of succession," she stated as a matter-of-fact. She was having trouble keeping her voice even. "I know all forty-two ahead of me, from the president down." Even _her children_ knew several of them, for Gods' sake. "Remember when I first joined Richard's mayor campaign?" she asked and they both nodded, a sad smile on her lips. She sniffed as she pulled the blanket tighter around her.

"You just couldn't say no," Val said, repeating the words her mother often used to explain why she was in politics in the first place.

"Yes," she agreed. They were both aware Laura considered Richard Adar a close friend after little over thirteen years working together, but she had been very careful of not giving them any suspicion of her affair. "He had this way about him. I really thought I was, at last, going to get out after the first presidential term."

The pilot approached them and held out a small sheet of paper. "Thank you." She took it and as soon as she read it, her hand shook twice before she could stop herself. While the message was longer than that, she could only concentrate on two single lines:

 _I.D. code D-456-345-A received. Highest ranking cabinet member acknowledged._

 _Confirming stand-by, waiting for President Roslin's orders._

"We'll need a priest," she mumbled, as calmly as she could. She took the blanket off in favor of her coat as the words _President Roslin_ kept ringing in her mind: she shouldn't be inheriting the presidency, not now when she was given just a few months to live while everyone else —her coworkers, her _friends_ — were dead. Laura never wanted this. She never really liked politics. Besides the people— whomever was left needed more than a leader who would be gone soon, they needed more stability than that. But then again, what other option was there?

"Yes, ma'am." The pilot left and Laura exchanged glances with Lee and Val, thinking about the best way to ease the tension they were surely feeling on her behalf. But her thoughts came back empty.

There was another thing on her mind, however. "Lee," she said softly. "Do you have any reports on the Fleet's casualties?" He knew exactly what she was asking about, or rather which particular battlestar she was interested in. He shook his head.

"We lost thirty ships in the first wave, the ones docked in Headquarters," he explained. "That's all I know. But—"

"But _Galactica_ has no functional weapons, so if the Cylons found them..." Val finished for him, and Lee nodded gravely.

"They still have their Viper squadrons, but what chance do those Vipers have when the other battlestars were decimated so quickly?" Neither had any answer to Lee's retort. Val bit her lip in worry and Laura stared blankly at the floor between them. Her last talk with William Adama —she didn't want to call it _last_ , but maybe it was— had been mostly civil, as always, with only some batches here and there. But he couldn't be dead for their children's sake, and also... for hers. She just couldn't think about it now.

"We're ready, Madam Sec— Madam President." The pilot's voice brought them back from their individual thoughts, and Laura took a deep breath before following him. The adjacent area, originally designed for first class, was now full of the same reporters that had accompanied her to the decommissioning with recorders in hand, framing the priest who had also conducted the ceremony. She held the scrolls in her hands and compelled a short-lived smile as a greeting.

"Please raise your right hand and repeat after me," the woman instructed.

The reporters closed in around her, and Laura forced herself to concentrate in Lee and Val's presences by her right shoulder instead. She raised her hand and spread her fingers in the air, and it shook slightly as she fought to push away the stream of thoughts that suddenly overwhelmed her. She barely registered when the priest began reciting what she was supposed to repeat.

"I, Laura Roslin,"

 _I'm afraid the tests are positive; the mass is malignant._

"I, Laura Roslin—"

 _While there are treatments that can prolong your condition, the mass is too big for surgery..._

"Do now avow and affirm,"

 _Ma'am, I regret to inform you there was an accident at Fleet Academy this morning..._

"Do now avow and affirm—"

 _Lieutenant Zachary Adama lost control of his Viper. He didn't survive the crash._

"That I take the office of the president of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol,"

 _Laura, you've put me in a very awkward position..._

"That I accept the office of the president of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol—"

 _You can stay on an advisory capacity; Gods know we need your ideas..._

"And that I will protect and defend the sovereignty of the Colonies,"

 _I love you, Laura. Marry me?_

"And that I will protect and defend the sovereignty of the Colonies—"

 _But_ Galactica _has no functional weapons, if the Cylons found them..._

"With every fiber of my being."

 _Thank you for coming, Madam Secretary._

"With—"

 _It was good to see you._

"With every... fiber of my being."


	5. All of this has happened before, part 5

Okay, so the house cleaning stuff first: I'll try getting the next chapter before the 12th, as I'm going on vacation that day. If I don't make it happen, expect to hear from me only after the 23rd. And who knows, I might have enough inspiration to writewritewrite during my long flights! :P

This chapter marks the first half of the miniseries, whohoo! I'm dying to get to the conflicts of season 1 already ;) For now, enjoy!

(Also, thanks to Jules for proof reading all my writings!)

* * *

 _The things that we're afraid of tend to show us what we're made of._

::::::::::

Bent over the navigation table to see the maps Gaeta provided him, Bill studied the plan ahead. Tigh approached him and he raised his eyes to stare at his XO; he had never seen him that pale, but otherwise his composure still intact. Chief Tyrol had already debriefed Bill of the venting in rather colorful terms— the final count listed eighty-five of his men lost to the fire against just twenty-six survivors. That was enough to take a toll on anyone, but Bill was sure they both knew it was the right call and he would have given the same order.

"Munitions depot confirmed, the inventory books say Ragnar Anchorage is our safest bet to get weapon coils. Thought the whole station was scrapped," Tigh said.

"Too expensive. Simply abandoning it served the same purpose."

Tigh scoffed. "Nice to see bureaucracy helping us for a change," he joked wryly. "The storm will make anchoring there a pain in the ass, though."

"One of the reasons they decided to abandon it," Bill added. Everything about Ragnar was inconvenient for a colonial government bound by decades of peace; the distance (in the outskirts of the system) and atmosphere of the gas giant seemed enough to keep colonials away.

"But, we have two problems," Saul continued. "One: Ragnar is at least three days away at best speed. Two, the entire Cylon fleet is between here and there."

Bill considered their options as he returned to the maps in search for answers, and then looked intently at his XO. There was only one solution, only one possible way to get to the station in time without alerting the enemy. Tigh stared back blankly until he realized what his friend had in mind.

"You don't want to do this," he warned.

"You know I don't."

"Because any sane man wouldn't. It's been, what? Twenty, twenty-two years?" Tigh's voice was still incredulous, but softer than before.

"We've trained for this," Bill reminded him.

"Training is one thing, but if we're off in our calculations we could end up in the middle of a sun. And even if we get them right, when was the last time the FTL relays got tested?"

"No choice. Colonel Tigh, please plot a hyperlight jump from our position to the orbit of Ragnar."

The man straightened up and nodded. "Yes, sir." He then moved to bark out orders in several points of CIC, and Bill couldn't help but let a small grin at the thought of having _Galactica_ back into a combat jump.

Yet his excitement was short lived as Dee approached him, visibly shaken by the printed document she handed him. "Priority message, sir," she informed, her voice broken. Bill eyed her for an instant before he scanned the message's contents quickly, and the ever-present knot at the base of his stomach pulled down on him.

"Admiral Nagala is dead," he read aloud, and all activity in CIC stopped once more as he stared at the paper in his hand. "Battlestar _Atlantia_ has been destroyed. So is the _Triton_ , the _Solaria_ , the _Columbia_... the list goes on." The air in CIC turned dense as every officer could do nothing else but stare at their commander, and a new sensation of helplessness settled in. Were they all that was left? A decommissioned battlestar against the entire Cylon forces?

It was Tigh who finally spoke, focusing on Bill. "Who's the senior officer? Who's in command?" His questions carried his usual lack of tact. Bill stared at him for a beat, and Tigh's eyes widened as he looked back. "So much for retirement."

Bill took his glasses off and turned to Dee with a neutral expression on his face. "Send a message to all the colonial military units, use priority channel one. Then try to raise Apollo's Viper." The officer nodded in acknowledgement. "Message begins: Am taking command of fleet."

::::::::::

" _Gemenon Liner 1701_ , this is _Colonial Heavy 978_ — no, strike that." The pilot gave Laura a glance, while she and Lee watched the spacecraft's approach through the window, and turned back to the comm system. "This is _Colonial One_." He smirked to himself as he seamlessly renamed the ship and Laura tried not to roll her eyes, half-bothered, half-embarrassed by it. It was hardly the time, but... well yes, she _was_ — it made sense. "We have you in sight. Will approach your starboard docking hatch."

While the latest acquisition to their fleet responded to the pilot's words, something buzzed to Laura's right and caused her to turn around with curiosity. A printed piece of paper came out of the machine with a hiss, Lee took it and Laura's jaw tensed as she waited for him to read it aloud. So far, none of the messages they had received could be catalogued as good news.

But he didn't. Instead, Lee remained silent with an enigmatic expression on his face, and Laura narrowed her eyes as she asked, "What is it?"

"To all Colonial units: Am taking command of fleet. All units ordered to rendezvous at Ragnar Anchorage for regroup and counterattack. Acknowledge by same encryption protocol." Lee paused for a moment and raised his eyes to meet his mother's. "Adama."

Laura forgot how to breathe for an instant. Her first thought was of relief— Bill Adama was still alive. There was a battlestar still out there that could protect them, never mind the fact that it was completely weaponless; still, one less than appropriate warship was better than none at all. But that also meant _Galactica_ was the last surviving battlestar, if Bill had taken command of fleet... oh, Gods. The admiralty was, much like the government, gone. She and Bill were all that was left of their respective worlds, it seemed.

She took the sheet of paper from Lee to read it for herself, and four words caught her attention. _Adama_. She could remember well when she used to sign with that same last name, a lifetime ago. But also— _Regroup and counterattack_. He wanted to counterattack. With _what_? Was he out of his frakking mind? How would that help? To fight back of course, was what any soldier was trained to do, but going out in a blaze of glory would barely serve anyone at the moment.

Her relief gave way to a surge of exasperation. She would not let him be a frakking idiot if she had any say on the matter— which was ironically what she had now. Bill Adama had a couple of kids to be alive for, and Laura needed to keep him that way. "Captain Apollo," she said, while her face remained impassive. It was a miracle that the four of them had survived, and _nobody_ was going on a suicide mission. End of story. "Please inform _Galactica_ we are engaged in rescue operations and require their assistance. Ask how many hospital beds does the ship have and how long it will take for it to get here," she continued, carefully not mentioning the commander by name. This wasn't personal— well it _was_ , but not in that way. This was beyond their personal history, the remains of humanity were at stake.

Lee looked nervous and didn't move. "I— you know _he_ 's not going to respond very well to that request." Laura almost laughed; she found this whole situation ridiculous. Of course, _of course_ Bill wasn't going to take it for what it was, maybe even less coming from her.

"I'm well aware," she accepted. "Which is why it's not a request." She could deal with an angry Bill Adama, Gods knew she had done it before. "Tell him this comes directly from the president of the Twelve Colonies." And if he had a problem with it... well, he was in his right to disagree with her.

::::::::::

"Commander, priority message from _Colonial One_ ," Dee informed him, and Bill frowned. _Colonial One_? His first thought was that he should have expected to run out of luck, and get stuck with Adar of all possible survivors. But he blinked twice when Dee continued, "Signed by Captain Apollo."

" _What?_ " Bill muttered under his breath. He received the paper the young officer handed him and to his surprise —and disgust—, his message was answered by an order of its own: _Colonial One_ made requirements for its _rescue operations_ — under direct instruction of President Roslin. Whatever feeling gave him the realization that enough people were dead for Laura to become president was quickly replaced by sharp anger. She had never liked the military and she had no knowledge of real _combat situation_ to be the commander-in-chief now. By dismissing his order to regroup in Ragnar, it was clear to Bill that she had no clue of what to do.

"Is this a joke?" he asked, evidently talking to himself. And then turned to Dee. "Are they within voice range?"

"Yes, sir." The officer proceeded to patch the call through to the other ship. " _Colonial One_ , _Galactica_. _Galactica_ actual wishes to speak to Apollo."

In the cockpit of _Colonial One_ , Lee exchanged a glance with the pilot. "Here he comes," he said, thinking out loud. He adjusted the headset provided to him and nodded to the pilot, who in turn pressed a button to let Lee's microphone be heard through the line. "This is Apollo. Go ahead, actual."

There was a brief silence before Bill spoke. "Are you— is your ship all right?"

Lee drew a sour smile on his face. "We're both fine, thanks for asking. We're _all_ fine," he added, in reference to his sister. Why was it so hard for his father to care and ask, at least?

"Is your ship's FTL functioning?" Bill asked next. He felt a rush of relief pulsing through his veins— at least they were safe. For now.

A small pause on Lee's side. "That's affirmative."

"Then you're ordered to bring yourself and all your passengers to the rendezvous point. Acknowledge?"

A longer pause. "Acknowledge... receive of message," Lee murmured.

"What the hell does that mean?" Bill asked. His anger was boiling back to the surface.

"It means I heard you."

"You have to do a lot better than that, Captain. Proceed to Ragnar," Bill ordered again. "Immediately."

Laura stepped back into the cockpit at that moment to get a report from the pilot, and she noticed Lee talking through the wireless. "The president has given me a direct order—" he was protesting, and she tilted her head with interest after she closed the door behind her.

 _This is not the time to be a sentimentalist_ , Bill thought. "You're talking about the _secretary of education_ ," he corrected him sharply, the grave voice filling the small cabin. "We're in the middle of a _war_ , and you're taking orders from your mother, the _schoolteacher_?"

Laura stared at Lee for a moment without blinking. Then a slow, sad smile crept to her features; from the few exchanges over the years she was aware that Bill didn't agree with her incursion into politics, or maybe her incursion into Adar's government specifically, but she had never expected him to undervalue her job as a teacher too. He had never mentioned it before. But this... had they ever agreed on anything?

The captain turned to her and shot her an apologetic look, but Laura shook her head. She didn't want Lee's pity. He sighed and parted his lips to talk again, but the panels in front of him began buzzing and everyone in the room tensed once more. _More_ bad news, no doubt.

"Inbound Cylon fighters," the pilot informed them, taking the comm with _Galactica_ out of the speakers to avoid the distraction. Laura moved forward, pulled her glasses on and leaned against the pilot's seat while trying to ignore the horrified look painted on his face. She couldn't see them outside— and she didn't know if that made it better, or worse.

"How long till they get here?" she asked rapidly.

"ETA two minutes."

Lee's gaze was fixed on the red blinking dots on the DRADIS screen. "He's right. We have to go. Now."

She didn't need to ask who _he_ was. "No," she blurted out, and Lee looked at her incredulously.

"Madam President, we can't defend this ship against—"

"We're not going to abandon all these people," she hissed. And do _what_ exactly, she wasn't sure. The pounding of her heart expanded through her chest all the way to her head as she stared at the screen in a desperate attempt of finding something, _anything_ that could help them. Two dots, meaning just two fighters... but not even Lee's Viper was an option. And no other ship had weapons of any sort...

"But, sir—" Lee kept protesting, but Laura shook her head.

"I've made my decision, Captain," she warned him.

Lee stood up angrily from his seat and faced her. Laura did her best to keep her focus on the DRADIS in front of her, but her instincts betrayed her as soon as he spoke. "Mom, _please_ — we can't save them."

"Just because we can't save them doesn't mean we should abandon them. And we won't," she said stubbornly. She'd rather perish than leave... even if it meant... her _children_...

"Permission to go below?" Lee asked with his teeth clenched, interrupting her thoughts. She nodded right away, praying he had a plan when she didn't. For all their sakes.

::::::::::

Bill stared ahead blankly while he waited for Lee to speak to him again. He could hear voices on the other side of the line, but couldn't distinguish what they were saying— Laura was there, that much he could tell. _The frakking president_. Unbelievable. He wondered what she was feeling; perhaps she was overwhelmed, if she was giving such ridiculous orders about rescue operations. Rescue operations inside a _war zone_ —and she didn't get the whole system was one— without proper escort would get them killed. He could hardly expect a civilian to understand it.

Suddenly, Gaeta talked and he looked up to catch his words. "Sir, we have a remote sensor telemetry at Captain Apollo's location, and two enemy fighters are closing in on their coordinates!" Bill turned towards the DRADIS screen and on cue, the information displayed on it was replaced by the long-range sensors of Lee's Viper.

 _Frak_. Bill clutched the handset near his mouth. " _Colonial One_ , _Galactica_. Apollo, you've got two inbound fighters heading toward you!" he practically shouted, while staring in horror at the two red dots approaching the green friendly units in the screen above him. There was no acknowledgement on the other side of the comm. Lee and Laura's voices could be heard, though farther than before. "Get the hell out of there. Apollo!" he tried again, this time yelling in full. The people in CIC around him stopped their activities to follow his one-sided, desperate conversation. "Apollo!" The line fell silent once more and Bill felt completely helpless. _Jump now!_ "Lee!"

Then, for an instant, Laura's voice became clearer and Bill managed to catch her fear-colored tone. "Lee—"

The line was cut off before she said anything else. And then, nothing.

Bill waited for a heartbeat, then another, then a third. The DRADIS screen became distorted, failing to pick the Viper's signal up, and he knew what it meant. _Must be a malfunction_ , he tried to convince himself, as the other possible explanation involved something he refused to accept.

"Fifty kiloton thermo-nuclear detonation," Gaeta informed quietly. Bill barely blinked as he kept staring at the screen, waiting, hoping— a miracle was out of his reach. His family, _his family_ was— he was truly alone now. He forced his body to breathe again as he took the headset off and placed it back on the table, barely conscious that the whole crew in CIC was still staring at him. If he had only listened— she had asked him for _Galactica_ 's help— _if they had just frakking jumped_.

Laura, Lee and Val. All at once. He felt Saul's hands on his shoulders in sympathy, but he didn't really register the gesture. He couldn't process any thought at that moment and his limbs felt hollow but heavy, unsteady. After a few seconds that seemed to go on forever, the pain and acceptance set in; sudden, overpowering, it was a physical ache.

There wasn't anything he could do, except blowing the bastards out of the sky. It felt easier to channel his pain into anger for now. Even if it was the last thing he did, he knew his purpose was to take as many frakkers out as he could.

But in order to do that, _Galactica_ needed new weapon coils.

"Resume jump prep," he slowly ordered. Yet nobody moved, still processing what had happened.

In less than a beat, Tigh remembered his duties as second in command and shouted, "You heard the man, resume jump prep!" At his harsh words, the CIC jumped back to life as Bill stared at the star charts in front of him, glaring at the dots indicating the Cylon fleet.

Suicidal and desperate as it may be, he could only think one thing as he saw the considerable size of his enemy.

He was out for Cylon blood.


	6. All of this has happened before, part 6

Heeey, I'm back; thank you for waiting on me because this chapter was not easy to finish. Between my vacation and the cold I caught as soon as I was back... Anyway, I hope you like this one too. There's more necessary world-building.

Also, thank you all for your reviews and favourites! And a special mention to xbleeple for being so awesome when we met!

Last but not least, all my gratitude to Jules from WeAreCylons for betaing and getting me through the last bits of this chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

 _There is peace knowing that though the universe is beyond our understanding, it doesn't need our understanding to function._

::::::::::

Her frakking head hurt.

She felt the cockpit floor against her shoulder, and instinctively placed a hand on it to stabilize herself. How had she ended up on the floor? Laura opened her eyes to notice everything in her line of sight spinning around in an unnatural way— her glasses weren't aligned properly. She took them off, yet the spins and swirls failed to subside at the same velocity, and she had to put a hand on her head to still the pounding inside. What had happened?

She groaned and two other voices echoed her feeling, causing her to look up and see the pilots coming to in their chairs. "What was—" she said, her voice hoarse. She had to swallow first to keep talking; it felt as if she had just eaten sandpaper. "What was that?" She forced her mind into cooperation, above the major discomfort of feeling like her head had been split in two: The last thing she remembered was Lee going below, after the Cylon fighters—

"Cylons?" she asked, her voice more hectic than she wanted to.

"Gone, ma'am," answered a pilot, as he pressed some buttons and switches from the panel in front of him and the screens regained power. "I don't know what in the hell he did, but whatever it was made the fighters leave."

That should have calmed her down, but instead raised another concern in Laura's mind. "Lee— get a first aid kit. We need to check on him." She wasted no time by ignoring her impressive headache as she got up, smoothed down her skirt, and moved toward the stairs. She had some trouble in keeping her pace into a straight line, but by the time she reached the bowels of the ship, she was already in control of her body again to afford running the remaining distance in heels. As soon as she got by Lee's side, she crouched next to him and lifted his head to cradle his face in between her hands, while the pilot laid down the medical kit and opened it.

"Lee—"

"That was fun," he joked, barely opening his eyes and blinking lazily. He gave the impression of being drunk or just at the edge of sobering up and Laura giggled hysterically, driven by the relief that her son was disoriented but otherwise okay. The pilot chuckled as well. "I think it worked," Lee added. He tried to get up but Laura pushed him down gently, not willing to risk him falling over due to his dizziness yet.

"What exactly did you do?" she asked instead. Lee looked at her and tried to focus on her eyes while he attempted to explain.

"I basically just used the hyper drive to manipulate the energy coils. I p-put out a big pulse of electro... mag-magnetic energy that must have disabled the warheads." He frowned, forcing himself to concentrate on his words to regain steadiness. It seemed like his thoughts were in a better shape than his body. "I'm hoping it looked like a nuclear explosion," he finished nervously and tried to stand again. This time Laura and the pilot took him each by an arm and Lee placed his weight on them as he was raised onto his feet, slowly but steadily, until he could do it on his own. Laura let go as the pilot kept Lee uptight, and she shot him a grateful smile.

"So that's what it was. Did it fool the Cylons?"

"Well, we're not dead yet," he pointed out. Laura laughed out loud sincerely for the first time since her diagnosis and nodded, the force of her voice echoing against the walls.

"Does the rest of the fleet know about this trick?" The pilot finally spoke. He exchanged a glance with Lee and then with Laura; they obviously couldn't contact _Galactica_ for fear of Cylons picking up their transmission and realizing the truth. Laura's outburst faded rapidly. Though she hadn't spoken with anyone about it —not Billy, the pilots or even Lee—, she knew exactly where they were going once the remaining ships had been gathered: To Bill. To Galactica, a safe haven where she was sure she could convince her ex-husband to take them in. Question was, _when_ would he be able to learn they were still alive.

"I doubt it, it was just a theory we toyed with in War College. But it never used to work during war games, the Cylons saw right through it," Lee explained, his sight still confused and blinking oddly.

The important bit, for now, was prolonging their survival. So Laura shook her head slightly as she smiled and said, "The lesson here is not to ask follow-up questions, but simply to say thank you, Captain Apollo, for saving our collective asses."

"You're welcome, Mo— Madam President." Lee smiled and blinked several times again until he regained a normal stance. "Now if I could suggest—"

"Evacuate the passenger liners and get the hell out of here before the Cylons realize their mistake?" Laura knew better than to push their luck, even if it meant admitting she was wrong. "I am right there with you, Lee."

::::::::::

"Attention all decks, set Condition Two throughout the ship. Repeat, attention all decks, set Condition Two throughout the ship," Gaeta informed several times over the PA.

Tigh got reports from the stations along the ship as he stood in his post across from Bill in CIC. The expressions surrounding them were tense, filled with anticipation and a certain hesitation for the jump in light of the blows they had dealt with during the day. Bill watched in silence as each station reported back and when finished, Tigh turned to him, his hands on his back.

"Board is green. Ship reports ready to jump, sir," he announced.

"Very well. Take us to Ragnar, Colonel," Bill ordered, in a less commanding voice than usual. His thoughts, his heart were elsewhere; they were leaving behind the remains of his children, of Laura... he felt awful for giving the order. _What else is left to do?_ he reminded himself. He then closed his eyes as Gaeta counted down the jump and clasped his hands together in front of him. As the familiar squeeze of the jump kicked in, the air compressed around him and pushed a stream of memories together: Laura's red hair, Laura's laugh, Laura's perfume... perhaps he should have reminded her how much she had meant to him before letting her depart the ship.

Emerging from the flash, Bill was left in the empty space with an even emptier soul. He knew better than to dwell on regrets. "Report."

Gaeta jumped at the commander's words and moved swiftly across the deck to the nav station; eyes followed him and breaths were held.

"Taking readings now..." he said, staring at the screen. The officer read the reports and turned around as he tried to conceal the grin on his face. "We appear to be in geosynchronous orbit directly above the Ragnar Anchorage." The entire CIC broke into an applause and even Bill somehow managed to put on a taut smile.

"Colonel Tigh, please update your charts for the course down into the eye of the storm," he instructed, yet Saul had begun moving before he heard the order. He took one chart off the command console and replaced it with the new one.

"Yes, sir." Both men leaned forward to see the charts and Tigh chuckled as he looked across at Bill. "Never doubted the Old Girl could do it, did you?"

"Never."

::::::::::

The temporary indisposition of the people aboard _Colonial One_ had subsided surprisingly quickly, perhaps because the crew was well aware of how lucky they were in the aftermath of Lee's miraculous plan. People came and went with purposeful strides and new tasks ahead, leaving Val with no other mission than to stare absentmindedly out the window, without much thought of the movement back and forth the corridor. She remained alone until Billy came back from the lower decks of the ship, stopping to a halt as he registered her.

"Nasty headache, right?" He smiled.

She turned to see him and put on a smile of her own, as much of a reflex as due to politeness. "Very," she agreed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah, just thinking. Lee's girlfriend was on Caprica," she said. "Everyone lost family— except for me."

"Really?" he said, encouraging her to continue. He slowly took the seat next to her as she nodded again.

"My grandparents died at some point or another, one before I was born, the rest as I grew up. I was lucky enough to have my mother and brother here. And my father— my father is either furious with us or believes we're dead, but he's out there too."

"But— what about friends?" She remained in silence for a moment. "Do you want to talk about them?" he added quickly. "It might help you." Val felt a pang of guilt over Billy's kindness; even though he had lost much more than her, like his parents and sisters, he was still talking to her.

And so, she complied. "I skipped class to come to the ceremony. The University of Delphi has— had, I suppose," she swiftly corrected herself, "the best history college in the Colonies. And my parents had the means to afford it— after all, my brothers' tuition was covered by their service in the Colonial Fleet."

"Wait, _brothers_?" he repeated.

"Yeah, Zak— he was a pilot too. Had an accident two years ago." Billy gave her a sympathetic look. "Anyway, I wasn't popular or anything, but I had friends. Lived on Delphi with my best friend; we'd been roommates almost since we met the first day. We were thinking of getting a cat after the exams..." Her voice lowered. "My friends— my friends were at class. All of them..."

"I'm sorry," Billy said and Val gave him a thankful nod. There was something else on her mind, though she didn't mention it: she had been a semester away from getting her degree, a possibility that was no longer there. Maybe she had lost her fair share too, just not family. She had barely met her extended family to begin with.

One of the pilots rushed past their seats, which propelled Val to look around. "Am I keeping you? You must be busy. Might not be the time to worry about me?" she joked.

"Well, yes," he conceded, "but... I don't know. I mean, the fact that you were lucky doesn't make your loss any less real."

Val stared at him in surprise, yet remained speechless. He was right, of course, and she hadn't thought of it that way; she was so focused on everyone else aboard to complain about her personal pain. She inhaled deeply. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said softly, smiling anew.

A comfortable silence fell upon them, accompanied only by the footsteps of the crew. A few moments later Lee walked through the corridor in a strong pace, but stopped just by their seats; Billy jumped to his feet instantly.

"We found one of _Galactica_ 's Raptors. Full with refugees from Caprica," he added. "I'm going below to meet them."

Val stared at her brother in shock. "Oh my Gods, those poor people... Can I help?"

"I could use a hand." He then turned to Billy. "Please inform the president about the Raptor. Also, Doctor Gaius Baltar seems to be among the refugees."

"Right away, Captain." Billy nodded, and left for the cockpit.

Val stood up as well and followed Lee to the bowels of the ship. A steward got her a pad and a pen for her new task, updating the ship's manifest with the names of those who came aboard, and also word from the cockpit: President Roslin expected to see Baltar as soon as possible. The Raptor was transported to the interior of the cargo bay, where a young woman wearing a pilot suit awaited as well. As soon as Lee came closer, she saluted him.

"Captain Apollo. Boomer, sir," she greeted him, and gave Val a short nod after Lee saluted her back.

"I remember you," he said. "Have you had contact with any other ship?"

"No, sir, incoming only since the attack. I've got two communication pods left, that's it. No jiggers, no drones, no markers, nothing."

Lee fought hard not to roll his eyes. "Well, at least you've still got your electronics working. That old crate of mine can barely navigate from A to B."

"That old crane may have saved your life, sir," she told him. "The Cylons shut the Viper Mark VII's like they threw a switch or something. And I've been hearing reports like that from all over. The only fighters that are been having any success at all are either old or in need of major overhaul."

Lee felt a pressure against his arm and found Val's hand clutching him tightly; that also meant _Galactica_ , the oldest battlestar in the Fleet, was probably the safest place for their father to be. Still, he ignored his sister as he saw a figure emerging from the Raptor, his long hair and handsome appearance unmistakable for those who had seen him before. "Is that him?" Lee asked.

Boomer nodded. "Yeah. Hope he's worth it!" she snapped. Then looked back at Lee. "Sorry, sir."

"Don't be. I hope he's worth it too." Lee walked to him with Val closely behind, until they were both standing before a man who has all but a composed mess. He appeared to have a cut on his cheek, but apart from it and the layer of dust over his skin, hair and clothes, the man was completely unharmed. "Doctor Baltar, Captain Lee Adama. The president's asked to see you, sir."

"President Adar is alive?"

"No, I'm afraid Adar is dead. President Laura Roslin was sworn in a couple of hours ago."

"Oh." Baltar looked around as he tried to register the name. When he couldn't, he added, "Who?"

"Doctor Baltar, I just need your colony for the passenger manifest. Caprica, right?" Val interrupted.

He seemed nervous for a blink and then nodded, which she assumed had to do with the trauma of those last hours on the planet. "Caprica, yes."

"Thank you. Now if you please go with Captain Adama..." She spoke softly and Lee guided the man over to the stairs, while Val moved back to the Raptor. A group of children and three more adults waited for her— _rescuing kids from a dying planet is just wrong_ , she thought. But everything about the Cylons' attack was wrong. "Could I have your attention, please," she said, raising her voice. "I need you to exit the Raptor one at a time, and tell me your name and colony. Then stay close the crew members behind me as I tend to the next one. We will find you accommodations aboard _Colonial One_ as soon as possible."

The group of children who had already exited the Raptor formed a line in front of her, silently glancing at their new surroundings. Each one gave Val their name and colony of birth —some stammering, some unusually quiet, and who could blame them—, and then stood by the staff who helped them get out of the spacecraft. Every once in a while an adult chimed in, throwing questions none had real answers for and leaving them with a deeper feeling of helplessness.

The last person to exit the Raptor was a blond, tall woman with short hair, her disheveled appearance just like the rest. As soon as she approached Val, she spoke. "Do you have any news about the Colonial Fleet?"

"Only a little. We're trying to get more but, honestly, it's not good," she admitted, and the woman nodded grimly. "Could I have your name and colony?"

"Caprica," the woman said. Val waited for her to continue. "My name is Carolanne. Carolanne Lynch."

Val froze for an instant. She glanced at her companion, studying her with an unmasked interest that Carolanne didn't fail to notice. She was close to her father's age, at least. Could she be...? The woman stirred uncomfortably in her spot as she waited for Val to make use of the information she had just given her.

"Anything else?" she asked after a while.

She shook her head. "No. But— does my name mean anything to you? I'm Val Adama."

The woman's features brightened up immediately. "You're Bill's girl," she acknowledged. "Have you heard from him? Do you know if...?"

"He's okay. I'm sure he'll be happy to know you are too," Val assured her.

The woman smiled fondly. After a few more words, most of them implying they would catch up later, now that they had met at last, Carolanne left with the crew members and the rest of the survivors. Val glanced at her until she was out of her view, only then writing her name and colony down. In the meantime, she wondered if their Gods truly existed— and if they did, what kind of game were they playing now.


	7. All of this has happened before, part 7

As always, thank you for your reviews, favourites and follows. I'm happy to know you're as invested in this fic as I am ;)

Many, many thanks to Jules for the editing, and especially the suggestions for the final scene of this chapter.

* * *

 _You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice._

::::::::::

Ragnar Anchorage was as untended as advertised. The massive station lay suspended over the planet's upper atmosphere, rotating on its own axis by three rings, one of them already scrapped for parts. Bill had never been there before but he knew the station's history, built during their original conflict with the Cylons to keep the ammunition depots away from their enemy.

He was also aware of the hostile environment for machinery, and had instructed Tyrol on using as much manual labor as possible. The last thing they needed was a malfunction driven by the gas giant's radiation.

What he never expected, though, was going into the station himself— it was supposed to be a grab & go mission, and his crew wasn't supposed to find an arms dealer there.

"Commander, sir; we've loaded almost thirty-five percent of the ammunition we need," the Chief greeted him, once he arrived past the airlock door and into the supply storage bay. "A lot of this has seen better days, but it definitely works."

They walked deeper into the station as Tyrol's deck crew worked around them, moving equipment manually and by automated trolleys. "He over there?" Bill asked, and the man nodded as he led his commander over to a stranger under a marine watch. The first thing he caught was how sick their prisoner looked: the man's skin was pale and waxy, and sweating profusely. He eyed Bill in a nervous matter, just like he had done with the rest.

"He said there was a fight—" the man began, pointing at the Chief. "A war, I mean. I didn't know. I was just—"

"Cylons," Bill confirmed calmly, and the man widened his eyes in shock. "Nuked all twelve colonies. We're loading up to get back into the fight. Your name?" he asked.

"Leoben Conoy."

Bill ordered his marines to lower their weapons and waved the man to come closer. "You probably know this place better than we do." He then signaled two marines to walk behind them and moved over to inspect some crates, Conoy trailing after him, while the crew resumed their duties in their vicinity. "We don't know much more than that. It's just imperative that we get our equipment and get out of here," he explained. The group slowed as Bill approached a sealed hatch that peaked his interest. "What's in there?"

Conoy gave it a look, and quickly shrugged as he said, "Stuff."

Bill glanced at him, his suspicions raised. He couldn't pinpoint what, but something didn't sit right with him. "Let's take a look," he ordered. Conoy's nonchalant expression gave him reason to be curious, as if he didn't want Bill to look behind that door.

But instead, Conoy helped the marines push the hatch and while his suspicions dropped a little, they were far from gone. It took them several minutes, the metal squeaking in protest as the object was finally out of the way to reveal the pitch black interior. "Get a light," he instructed the marines. One of them got him a flashlight and he moved forward to peer into the dark. Conoy twitched nervously by the door, clearing his throat and sniffing constantly, and Bill's sensation of disquiet was instantly back. "Where's your spaceship?" he asked, looking inside the hatch but seeing nothing of interest.

"Docked on the other side of the station", Conoy answered quickly— _too_ quickly for Bill's taste. Yes, there was something wrong about him— how would he transport the stolen cargo on his own? If he had ventured to Ragnar already, it would make no sense for him to leave his ship on the other side without trying to re-dock first or giving up altogether. Or, he wasn't there to get ammo at all.

Tyrol yelled on the back and Conoy turned to see the exchange, smiling widely all of a sudden, and looking paler in contrast to his white teeth. "Okay, those warheads over there; here's the deal," he said, his manner much more confident than before and setting off yet another alarm inside Bill's head as he watched him. "They would have brought a nice price on the open market."

Except there were places all over the colonies, easier to travel to, where someone could get weapons of this nature. If not, given the decades Ragnar had laid abandoned by the military, there would be nothing left. "So you're an arms dealer, huh?" Bill inquired, looking for something to prove his skepticism correct.

"People have a right to protect themselves; I just supply the means." Conoy spread his arms as he spoke, the grin on his face almost suppressed, but not quite. If it wasn't for that, Bill would have been inclined to think his sweating was due to nervousness. It seemed worse now, but the man remained as calmed as before.

He shone the flashlight up in Conoy's face, expecting him to pull away and get the brightness away from his eyes— yet he didn't even blink. "You don't look too good," Bill began, but the rest of his sentence was carried away by Tyrol's yells and a loud crash as a trolley carrying shells fell onto the floor, letting one out. It started beeping and a red light flashed several times out of the head. "It's hot!" Bill shouted, and instinctively grabbed Conoy by his clothes, pushing the man and himself through the open hatch and the explosion went off— shutting the door behind them.

Bill fell against his side, his shoulder taking the worst part while Conoy fell next to him with a loud thud. Both men rolled on to their backs as smoke filled the small room, and after a few seconds to catch his breath back, Conoy laughed. Bill coughed as he tried to get up, ignoring his company's curious —if not disturbing— reaction to it all. He finally stood on his feet when Tyrol's voice on the other side of what used to be the hatch called him, "Commander Adama!"

"Yeah!" he shouted back and moved closer to the sealed entrance. "Anybody hurt out there?"

"No, sir! We got some equipment coming, sir. We're going to get you out of there right away," Tyrol informed.

"No!" Bill's throat burned at the word, filled with smoke, and he stopped talking for an instant as he registered that Conoy was finally done giggling. "No. Get all the bullets and equipment into the ship. Don't waste anybody on anything else." He glanced behind him to see the man leaning casually against a pipeline, silent but grinning ominously in the dim environment. "Is there another way out of here?" This wasn't the road trip he would've wanted either, being trapped with an unbalanced man in an unknown place, but it wasn't up for debate. No, yet, he wished to have pushed Conoy towards the blast instead.

"Yeah," he answered, smiling like a mad man, explaining nothing else. This gave Bill the impression of walking into a trap, but the corridor ahead was the only plan they had to work with.

"Listen, uh, we're going to go out another way," he shouted through the hatch as he resisted the urge to cough again.

The reply came muffled by the soft crackling of the flames between them. "Sir, I don't think that's a wise idea."

"You got your orders," Bill insisted with his usual strong voice. "Tell Colonel Tigh he's in command until I return." He moved away from the hatch without waiting for his officer's acknowledgment and turned toward Conoy. "Let's go." He gestured down the smoke-filled corridor with the flashlight as he waited for Conoy to go ahead. The man paused but reluctantly moved first, walking down the hall and Bill wiped the dust from his face before following him.

::::::::::

When Lee followed Baltar into the passenger area, Laura was dismissing the last of her Ministry personnel to assume their new duties. She turned towards the retinue and smiled at the newcomer, who seemed effectively like a nervous fish out of the water next to Lee.

"Doctor Baltar, a pleasure to meet you again." She held out her hand and he shook it right away, but from the somewhat lost expression in his look, it was clear he didn't recognize her. He then lowered his eyes for barely an instant, as if some part of her body _other_ than her face would help him remember her— not even in his dreams. Still, Laura kept her smile steady and professional as she filled in the blanks for him. "We met at last year's Caprica City Symposium."

He left his hand in the air after she retracted hers while he tried to bring his memories of the event. "Oh— yeah. You'll have to forgive me, I'm bad with faces." Laura clutched her glasses on her left hand a little tighter to restrain herself— yes, _she noticed._ Instead, she decided to focus on the poor man's situation; now that she wasn't interesting at all, his eyes darted to their surroundings, as if he expected something to jump at him from anywhere in the room. Given what he had gone through, it was completely understandable.

"No, no! Don't worry about it, I'm sure I wouldn't remember me either," she joked, keeping her voice light before she dug into serious matters. She then paused for a second. "Doctor, I'd need you to serve as my chief scientific consultant and analyst, regarding the Cylons and their technology."

Baltar dropped his sight to the floor and his face had an odd, almost remorseful grimace; but soon enough looked her back in the eye as if nothing happened. "I'd be honored, Madam President."

"Good." She smiled again briefly before moving on to the officer standing just behind her son. "Lieutenant Valerii— is it Valerii?"

"Yes, sir."

Time to put what she had learned from having married a military man to the test. "I understand your ship has a limited faster-than-light capability?" She asked.

"Ah, yes, sir. The Raptor was designed to make short jumps ahead of the fleet, scout for enemy ships and jump back to report." Laura nodded as she listened to the officer's explanation, but she noticed Baltar in the corner of her eye, glancing around nervously. Poor man.

In any case, she opened her mouth to speak again, having already made up her mind about what to do next but taking her time to phrase it in a way the lieutenant would understand her. She was the president, but that didn't necessarily give her authority over the military if the military didn't recognize her as such. "I want you to go out and find as many survivors as you can, lead them back to this position. We will then form a convoy; we will guide them out of the combat zone and into safety." She exchanged glances with Valerii and Lee as she spoke.

"Yes, sir," she said again, and she excused herself to get back to her Raptor and make the necessary adjustments before resuming flight. That left Laura with Lee; she could read his reluctant expression like an open book.

"I am fully aware we don't know where the combat zone ends, or even if it ends," she told him, drawing him closer. "But Lee— this is it. All that is left of humanity is on these ships, stranded in the middle of space. This is a risky operation, I know that, but we must look beyond our immediate survival and ensure our survival as a species. In order to do that, we need as many people as we can get— what?" She brought her speech to a halt as, without warning, Lee drew a grin on his face.

"Sorry— but you're already seeing your new job in its whole width," he admitted. Laura echoed his smile as she accepted the unexpected compliment. "And I agree, Mom. But realistically, we cannot protect an entire convoy of ships with one old Viper and a Raptor."

"Well, how lucky that we happen to know where to find a battlestar, hmm?" She raised her brows as she hummed. "Ragnar Station."

But Lee frowned instead. "My father will not want to take the entire civilian population left when there's a war to be fought."

"You leave him to me, okay?" she said, crossing her arms. Bill might not want to hear it— but the war was already lost. The only thing they could do was to lead these people out of here, even if it may be the last thing she did. And she would make sure Bill Adama helped her with the only goal her presidency had time to achieve.

::::::::::

They had been walking for hours now through the narrow corridor that twisted and turned, and sometimes opened only to go back to a cramped passageway like before. Conoy had accused him of keeping him in front, and Bill had decided to comply and go first for a while as the man seemed sick enough to be taken down if needed. Indeed, Conoy was worse by the minute, and by blaming the station for his _allergies_ , he had all but confirmed Bill's theory. Ragnar had a hostile environment for humans, but not at the same level as for machines: Conoy had to be a Cylon.

They finally reached a set of stairs that led into a large room filled with steam and debris. Bill took a mental note of the pipes and pieces of scrap metal on the floor as he went down, before turning to watch Conoy follow him. His face now bore a nauseating grey color, gleaming unnaturally by the thick layer of sweat, and his lifeless eyes shrank inside his sockets. As he came by the last steps of the stairs, he crouched and groaned in pain.

"What is it about this place, what's it doing to me?" he asked, even his tone coated with a sickened whisper.

"Must be your allergies," Bill pointed out in irony, lacking any sympathy. Had Conoy been human— but he wasn't, he was one of the same machines that had killed his children and ex-wife. Bill had no use caring for a thing like that.

Conoy blinked slowly and for a minute, he almost smiled as he shook his head. "I don't have allergies," he finally admitted, having already realized Bill knew so too. They were both aware of what was about to happen— only one of them would leave this place on his feet.

"I didn't think so." He paused, and Conoy nodded once with a smug expression plastered on his face. "What you've got is silicon pathways to the brain, or whatever it is you call that thing you pretend to think with. It's decomposing as we speak," he continued as adrenaline filled his veins in anticipation. Bill felt no surprise, not even fear; his thoughts went directly into an overloading rage as he looked directly into the Cylon's face. It hadn't killed his family directly, that part was obvious, but one toaster was as good as any other.

"It's the storm, isn't it? It puts out something. Something you discovered has an effect on Cylon technology. That's it, isn't it? This is a refuge— that's why you put a fleet out here. Last ditch effort to hide from a Cylon attack." Conoy smirked as he spoke. "Right... well, that's not going to be enough. I've been here for hours. Once they find you, it won't take them that long to destroy you. They'll be in and out before they even get a headache."

That was enough for Bill to act. "Maybe," he conceded, and then lifted Conoy and slammed it into a nearby wall. Disturbingly, the noise it made as it came into contact with the hard surface was the same as a real human would have made. "But you won't find out because you'll be dead in a few minutes. How does that make you feel, if you can feel?"

"Oh, I can feel. I can feel more than you could ever conceive, Adama. But I won't die. When this body dies, my consciousness will be transferred to another one. And when that happens..." The rest was left unsaid, as the Cylon gasped weakly and Bill let it slip to the floor. It took it long enough to open its eyes again. "I think I'll tell the others exactly where you are, and I think that they'll come here. And they'll kill all of you. And I'll be there watching it happen."

"You know what I think?" Bill leaned over it as it struggled to catch a breath with its artificial lungs. "I think if you could have transferred out of here, you would have done it long before now." He kept his expression even, waiting for the Cylon to reply, but it didn't. "I think the storms radiation really clogged up your connection. You're not going anywhere; you're stuck in that body."

"Doesn't matter. Sooner or later," Conoy drew a sinister smile, "the day comes when you can't hide from the things you've done." Bill's face fell as his own words came back to him from the mouth of a machine that by all visual accounts looked human— there had to be at least one Cylon on _Galactica_ during the ceremony. Conoy's head fell to the side as it closed its eyes and stood motionless. It was the only way—

Suddenly its hand reached out, grabbing Bill by the throat, and he grasped for air. Conoy rose back on its feet, smiling again, taking him along with ease driven by its non-human strength. Bill tried to breathe as its hand squeezed harder; he didn't really have any reason to fight back. His family was gone— his _blood_ family was gone, he corrected himself. He had yet a second family, his crew. He did, after all, had _his people_ waiting for him out there.

The commander slammed the flashlight into Conoy's face, but the Cylon struck back with its free hand, the other one still constricting his throat tighter. Bill's feet left the ground and he was lifted upwards, and it punched him in the gut, sending him flying through the air before landing on the floor.

Bill groaned in pain, inhaling a lungful of air as the Cylon approached him. He rose to his knees while Conoy broke a pipe, bending the metal loose in seconds and lifting it over its head to strike. But as it swung it down, Bill managed to move out of the way swiftly and instead punched it with the flashlight again, knocking it off balance to get it twice in the gut. He then could push it backwards into the jet of steam let open by the broken piping, the revolting sound of sizzling flesh —that wasn't human, he had to remember that— muffled by the steam. Conoy struggled to move away, and it was successful, only to have the flashlight shoved in its face once more. Bill slammed his weapon again— and again. Blood poured out incessantly, red and bright and so-very-real it only fueled his rage. He hit it several more times even after there was no longer any resistance, widening the pool of blood around him until his adrenaline-induced strength finally faltered.

Bill was left alone, breathing heavily and covered in blood. He dropped the light before falling himself onto the ground next to the body, exhausted.

There was still path for him to cover back to his crew, and it would be harder now that he had to carry the Cylon. But it didn't matter in that instant— as Bill gathered himself on the floor by leaning his back against the pipeline, he couldn't bear it anymore. His whole being shuddered as he began crying, the type of body wailing that can only happen when you come to terms with having well and truly lost something so precious to your soul. He had lost Zak two years ago and now Lee and Val had followed their brother, leaving Bill behind with broken spirits and an empty space inside his chest. He had expected to see them grow older and happier, maybe with kids of their own to call him _Grandpa Bill_.

Instead, the Cylons had taken everything from him, and what had he taken in return? One humanoid soldier amongst how many, dozens? Hundreds? He didn't give a frak. No amount of toasters had the same value as his children.

But he needed to get back to _Galactica_ with his now vital information, and find out if the Cylon —or Cylons— present during the ceremony were still aboard his ship. If they managed to flush them out before resuming the fight, they still had a chance. If not...

Bill composed himself when the tears subsided, focusing on the mission ahead. He was a trained soldier first. He got up, grabbed the flashlight and stared down at the still-bleeding corpse near him. He was still alive, and had killed the Cylon.

No, not killed— _shut down_. That thing had never been alive in the first place.


	8. All of this has happened before, part 8

I'm way too excited today not to post this. Hope you like it!

Beta credits to Jules ;)

* * *

 _No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path._

::::::::::

She could not remember the last time she had been this tired. Not only physically —she had toured a ship to meet the captains and assess their situation—, but she was also emotionally drained. Each ship came with its own problems, and worst of all, even orphans. Orphans would be a common occurrence now, like that little girl in the botanical ship— Cami, dreaming of chicken pie on Caprica City. If her grandmother didn't make it...

Laura closed her eyes, and indulged herself in what was the first quiet moment she had had since the attacks. Lee was busy rounding up his engineering survey and had taken Val to assist him, though she wondered if it was to make her daughter feel useful for the time being rather than him needing actual help. She smiled at the thought— her children had grown so much. They were adults now, both of them— which would make it easier for her to leave. Her own soon-to-be orphans, like many in these ships...

She swallowed heavily and blinked several times to push the tears away. She should be grateful to get these months with them, when most of humanity didn't—

"Uhm..." Lee cleared his throat, and Laura smiled in greeting when he came into her line of view and got seated in front of her, focusing on the distraction instead of her morbid thoughts. "Message from Lieutenant Valerii, she found a fuel refinery ship. Filled with tyllium." He grinned as he finished reading the paper and looked up.

"Oh, good. About time we caught a break. So that brings us up to what? Eighty ships so far? Not bad for a few hours work."

Lee chuckled. "No, sir. But only about sixty of those ships have faster-than-light capabilities." She nodded as he spoke and leaned her weight over the armrest of her seat. "We should start transferring people off the sub-light's and onto the FTL's as soon as possible."

"All right," she agreed. She was eager to go to Ragnar as quickly as they could, as the longer they stayed without a battlestar nearby, the longer the ships were like sitting ducks for the Cylons. Her discussion with Commander Adama was something she didn't look forward to— but it was a necessity. "We can start right away, the Cylons could be back at any time. Make it happen, Captain," she ordered.

"Yes, sir."

Lee got up, nodded in her direction and left for the comm system in the cockpit. Laura closed her eyes again, only for an instant— and shot them open at the sound of anxious movements; her son was barely at the passageway when one of the pilots, Billy and Doral came through the door. Given the paleness staining her aide's face, Laura's mind was on alert immediately and she moved towards them as well, her arms tightly crossed in front of her.

"Madam President, a Cylon raider jumped in!" The pilot spoke quickly, icing her insides at the prospect. "Lieutenant Valerii tried to jam the signal, but it definitely scanned us before it jumped." Laura's face fell as she stared at the man, taking the words in. She then looked at Lee.

"We have to go. Now. Cylons will be here any minute." Lee's voice was resolute as he looked back at her, evidently asking her to follow his advice this time. Laura took a deep breath, feeling sick all of a sudden— twenty ships couldn't make the jump.

"Will they be able to track us through a jump?" she asked as calmly as she could muster, even though she already knew the answer. Twenty ships—

"No, sir; it's impossible."

"Theoretically impossible," she corrected automatically; Bill Adama had taught her that. If they led the Cylons to _Galactica_... they could all die. But if they jumped to somewhere else besides Ragnar to fool them, they could all die as well. Either way, at least the battlestar would put up a fight, and some protection was better than none. Her dreadful conversation with her ex-husband would be coming sooner than expected.

"Theoretically." Lee nodded, his eyes meeting hers in silent communication. It was obvious they were thinking the same thing—

"Madam President, there are still thousands of people aboard the sub-light ships," Doral interrupted, propelling himself into the conversation. Laura gave him a hard look; did he think she wasn't aware of that? And what did he expect her to do? "We can't just leave them."

"I agree," the captain said, and Laura resisted the urge to smack them both. The choice to save them all was non-existent; it was either saving some ships, or none at all. Last time had been a miracle— and they were out of them. She looked at Lee and his face confirmed her suspicions. "We can transfer as many people as we can. Wait to jump until we detect a Cylon strike force or—"

"Nuh-uh, we're easy targets. They're gonna jump right in the middle of our ships with a handful of nukes and wipe us out before _we_ have the chance to react," Lee argued, and Laura had to nod this time.

"You can't just leave them all behind; you'll be sacrificing thousands of people!" Doral protested rather loudly, as he looked from her to Lee and back. He was effectively blaming them both for something that was out of their control— the decision to leave them behind was hers, but she had no control over what happened afterwards. And thank the Gods neither did Doral, since he was so hell bent on killing them all.

"We'll be saving tens of thousands," Lee reminded him sternly as he walked away to pace near the windows. "I'm sorry to make it a numbers game, but we are talking about the survival of our _race_ here. We don't have the luxury of taking risks and hoping for the best, because if we lose, we lose everything. And Madam President— this is a decision that needs to be made right now." His eyes darted to her, as did everyone else's in the room.

She was silent for a moment, gathering up the courage to give the order. She knew what had to be done, and she agreed wholeheartedly with her son; but saying the words that condemned all those ships was beyond difficult. Her heart raced as she stared back at Lee. "Order the fleet to jump to Ragnar immediately." Lee nodded, exiting the room with the pilot, and Doral left in frustration in the other direction. Soon, she was left alone with Billy.

Her aide stood nervously at her side as he spoke. "Madam President, there's something else you should be aware of," he began, but didn't elaborate as she didn't look at him.

She was feeling an ache inside her heart and it threatened to tear her apart; she knew she couldn't bear with everything on her own. Even with her whole family with her, the burden she was carrying made her feel alone.

"I have cancer," she confessed quietly. She didn't want to get Billy into her mess, but it felt good saying it out loud. To share the news with her aide— better than her children.

Billy gazed uncomfortably at the floor for a few seconds. "I know," he finally answered, and Laura stared at him in shock. "Little things, a couple comments you made." He spoke softly, and she nodded as she glanced back at the window in front of her at the end of the room. So much for discretion— she had met him a few days ago, and she was already an open book to him. But he really had no one, no one besides herself; an orphan like her children would be...

"My prognosis is doubtful," she continued, this time in an overwhelmed, monotone voice. She felt better for sharing the news she was so sure she wouldn't tell anyone with Billy, but as he looked her back with sadness in his eyes, she also felt awful for placing it so suddenly on him. "I wish I could say it was the least of my worries, but the world is coming to an end and all I can think about is that I have cancer, I'm probably going to die and leave Lee and Val alone." A heavy silence followed her words. There were tens of thousands of people out in those ships depending on her, but she only truly cared about two. "How selfish is that?"

"It's not selfish, it's human," he said, shrugging. Laura wanted to smile at him, to show some gratitude at the sincerity and simplicity of his answer, but nothing came out. "Madam President, you're not alone in this. You have them—" Billy began, but Laura shook her head.

"No. Billy, you can't say a word to my children," she instructed, and grabbed one of his hands between hers tightly as she stared at him directly. "Not here, not now. They have to learn it from me." She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "The world is ending, Billy. They can't be worried about me until they have the support from their father. I— I'll tell him first," she promised, and the words felt hollow to her ears. She had to worry about Bill too, but— "But not right now," she finished, silently pleased on how Billy couldn't see through her lie after all.

"Okay." He squeezed her hands back and after a moment, she let go of them. "Not a word." He nodded and finally, Laura expressed her gratitude with a smile. Billy echoed her gesture before moving on to the exit.

But soon she frowned again. "Is there something you wanted to say to me?" she asked, stopping Billy to a halt. He didn't turn right away, giving Laura the answer before he even spoke.

"Well, I just thought you should know: that little girl you met earlier, Cami. Her ship can't make the jump."

Laura stared at him in quiet defeat. She could only hope for Cami to see her parents again soon— painlessly, if possible. "Thank you."

::::::::::

When _Galactica_ came into view, Laura let go a sigh of relief. She had a lot to deal with now, in the form and face of Bill Adama, but with the battlestar on their side, they finally had a chance.

Billy, Val, Baltar and Doral walked behind her as she went down the stairs and into the cargo bay, where Lee and Valerii awaited them. _Colonial One_ would not be docking inside _Galactica_ 's hangar deck, meaning they would be using the lieutenant's Raptor. Laura exchanged a grave glance with her son; convincing Commander Adama of what had to be done was the biggest issue of her first presidential visit. And she knew Bill would not be easy.

Valerii climbed inside first, and Lee extended his arm to help Laura. As she placed her foot on the first step of the wing, however, a very hurried set of footsteps coming from the stairs caught her attention; she was expecting yet another crisis thrown her way. But it wasn't one of those times, as a woman she had never seen before, probably in her fifties and wearing somewhat ragged clothes, rushed to meet them before the little group left. She must have been a survivor from Caprica, the poor woman.

"Wait!" she pleaded, and Laura agreed with curiosity. She did not notice Val's eyes widening at the sight. "Please. Let me go with you. I need to see Bill." She spoke quickly, not waiting for her breath to catch.

Laura narrowed her eyes. Why? How did she know Bill Adama?

" _Galactica_ is in no condition to accept civilians." It was Val who spoke first. "Besides the president and the doctor, of course. There will be time later, though. For us to go," she concluded.

Her reaction got Laura even more curious. "I don't think we've been introduced yet," she said politely. She then looked directly at Val, as she clearly knew the woman.

"Right. Mom, this is—"

"' _Mom'_?" Carolanne interrupted. "Oh, so you're Bill's ex."

Laura crossed her arms defensively at her condescending tone. "Yes. And you are?" she tried again, this time exasperated. It wasn't so hard to give her answers, wasn't it? The stranger seemed to know everything about her, and she didn't like it. She was _a lot_ more than just 'Bill's ex'.

When Val spoke again, she was obviously uncomfortable. "Mom, this is Carolanne Lynch. Dad's... girlfriend," she said, not without a certain doubt. She wasn't sure if that was how they described the relationship, but Carolanne didn't seem to mind. "Lieutenant Valerii rescued by complete coincidence from Caprica."

Lee opened his mouth in surprise and Billy suddenly felt like he was intruding into the private life of his boss, deciding then to focus his gaze on the Raptor as if looking for any place to hide in. Baltar and Doral glanced at each other, quietly bonding over their ignorance on the matter and Laura stared at her for a beat, evaluating her like a teacher would evaluate a new student with a particular ego. But soon enough a smile broke on her lips, a smile Val could swear was forced. "I'm glad to hear that," she said, offering her hand to Carolanne, who shook it quickly. And she agreed, better to drop the pretenses and get the formalities out of the way. "Laura Roslin. I see you've already met Val, and this is Lee, my son."

"Bill speaks a lot about you," she informed Lee, shaking his hand as well when he came forward. "About you both. He's proud of you two." Laura's smile grew fonder, that was the thing she could agree with Bill without doubt: they had raised their kids right.

She thought about Val's idea of staying behind with Carolanne, but discarded it swiftly. It would have been politically incorrect to deny her the possibility of visiting the battlestar, given how she was Bill's _ex_ while the woman was Bill's _current_. And besides, she would never: Bill didn't deserve to not see her, after all. "I don't see why you should stay on _Colonial One_. We're in a very dire situation," she said, and she couldn't stress that enough, "but I'm sure the commander will appreciate seeing you. You're welcome to join us." Carolanne nodded her appreciation and Laura resumed her earlier motion by climbing onto the Raptor.

She took her seat as Val followed her, not willing to meet her eyes for the moment when she made herself comfortable in the seat across Laura. Carolanne, Billy, Baltar and Doral came in next and Lee was the last one inside before the door was closed, taking the co-pilot seat next to Valerii. The Raptor left _Colonial One_ 's cargo bay shortly after.

Laura could not help to steal more than a couple of glances towards Carolanne during their silent flight.

::::::::::

Marines awaited for her this time, leading her and her group through the now familiar but confusing halls until they reached the Ward Room. It was the first clue that told Laura something was wrong. There was no way Bill would have sent marines to greet his presumed dead children instead of doing so himself.

As they walked, Lee slowed his pace just enough to close the entourage, signaling Val to do the same. While she eyed him with curiosity, she did the same and soon, they were walking at a short distance behind the rest. "You don't like her," he whispered. It wasn't a question. "Because she's dating Dad?"

"Of course not," she said in a similar tone. "I'm just... cautious. Dad's been seeing her for a year and a half, he has been very open about it. Yet he never tried to introduce her to me. Not even once." Lee frowned. That didn't sound like their father at all; Bill Adama was the type of person who relished in having his family as closely knit as he could. "Why, what's wrong with her? What's so wrong with her he felt the need to hide her?"

He glanced ahead at the back of Carolanne's head instead of answering. She seemed like any other Caprican woman— though what they had gone through barely helped in observing anyone's character. Val raised an eyebrow at him, as if challenging Lee to come up with a reasonable explanation, but he merely closed the topic with a shrug.

Once they arrived, Laura's feeling of dread intensified as she noticed the emptiness of the room. She had expected Bill would be waiting, what the frak was going on? The group waited for more than ten minutes until Saul came into the room, and Laura stopped herself from jumping instinctively at the man to get some answers. "Colonel Tigh, thank the Gods you're all right. Where's the commander?" she questioned rapidly.

"Overseeing munitions transfer." He spoke shortly, throwing a glance at her. "Word has been given, that you two are here," he said, gesturing at the Adamas, "and he'll be back when he can." He then raised both brows at Carolanne with recognition in his eyes when she waved at him, but made no attempt to greet her properly.

"He can't come to see his children now?" she asked, not buying it for an instant. He was either not where Tigh said, or nobody had informed him of their arrival.

"We're in the middle of repairing and rearming this ship," Tigh continued, annoyance shining in his voice. "We can't afford to lose a single man off the line to start caring for refugees."

Laura clutched her hands tightly as she looked away and smiled with incredulity at the ridiculousness of it all. What the hell was wrong with these people? They only cared about throwing sticks and stones at the Cylons, when a few bunch of nukes would hardly give them any advantage. "We have _fifty thousand_ people out there, and some of them are hurt. Our priority has to be caring for—"

" _My_ priority is preparing this ship for combat," Tigh interrupted. The disdain in which he addressed her had the rest of the room completely silent, giving Laura the desire to shake him until he snapped out those bloodthirsty ideas. "In case you haven't heard, there's a war on," he finished sarcastically.

"Colonel." She stepped closer, trying to get through to him. "The war is over," she said softly. "And we lost."

"We'll see about that."

"Oh, yes, we will." She straightened her posture, because she would not let them get away with this— lead them all to their deaths. Not after what she had already sacrificed to get to Ragnar. "In the meantime, however, as President of the Colonies I am giving you a direct order—"

"You don't give orders on this ship!" Tigh spoke over her, propelling Laura to raise her voice too.

"...to provide men and equipment..."

"Hold on, Colonel," Lee chimed in, shouting to be heard above them as Laura looked at Saul in disbelief. Some part of her had been warning her over and over again, ever since she heard Adama's words in the cockpit of _Colonial One_. A _schoolteacher_. Neither of them, Bill or Saul, trusted her for this job. A military dictatorship was a very distinct possibility, even when she wouldn't have thought Bill capable of that... "At least give us a few disaster pods."

"Us," Tigh snorted. "Don't forget your place, Captain. Running below mommy's skirt when you're a senior pilot now..."

A spurt of anger erupted in Laura as she was about to protest, but Lee spoke first. "Sir, we have fifty thousand people out there. Fifty thousand. Some of them are sick, some are wounded. Two disaster pods, Colonel, you can do that." He even smiled as he ignored what Tigh just threw at him, just repeating her words in a less aggressive tone.

"Because you're the old man's son and because he's so damned happy you're alive, okay. Two pods, but no personnel." He walked around the desk, heading towards the exit. "You get them _yourselves_ and you distribute them _yourselves_. And you are all off this ship before we jump back. Report to the flight deck, Captain."

They both saluted in agreement and the colonel left, Lee following him out the door with one last glance and smile at Laura.

As she watched her son leave, she could only think about how _Galactica_ seemed less of a safe haven than before.


	9. All of this has happened before, part 9

Thank you all for so many reviews! I can't express just how happy they make me!

This chapter contains the first flashback, which is actually one of the first bits I wrote for this fic. So yes, this whole idea came from here. And I'm finally able to show it!

And thanks to Jules again for helping with the edits ;) Enjoy!

* * *

 _When you love someone, you open yourself up to suffering. That's the sad truth. Maybe they'll break your heart, maybe you'll break their heart and never be able to look at yourself in the same way. Those are the risks. The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden._

::::::::::

Bill could not believe his ears when Saul told him the news —his children were _alive_ — and carrying sixty-three ships with them. As the colonel said he would find Lee in his quarters, he could only rush to find the hatch open, and as he entered he found Lee staring at the picture previously left on his desk: his siblings, Bill and himself standing outside the Viper, grinning. Lee looked up as he got close.

Bill was too overwhelmed to say anything, the relief he felt to see tangible proof his blood and bone was back on _Galactica_ overlapped everything else.

Lee placed the frame back on the table, his father's hesitation cue enough to plot his exit. "I, um, gotta go." He moved towards the hatch, passing by him and Bill reached out, pulling his son into a tight embrace. He was alive and Val too; it was a miracle if he had ever seen one. Lee's arms came around him as Bill swallowed down tears. He pulled away after a while, looking at Lee as he cleared his throat.

"What— what about your sister? And your mother?"

"Do you really care? You called her a schoolteacher," he accused. "We're alive because of her. That's no way to treat her, for frak's sake!" Lee had raised his voice in frustration and turned around, only to find his face on his graduation photo and again by a lake with Val on a sunny day. Sitting nearby was one of Laura and Zak when he was about seven years old, taken some months prior to the divorce. He picked it up with incredulity. "She heard you. She was standing right there!"

"She is a schoolteacher, Lee. She hasn't been at war. Your ship knew very little of what was happening inside the combat zone." Bill wasn't surprised at Lee's reaction but he needed him to understand that even a secretary of education was widely different from the secretary of defense. "It doesn't matter," he finished. The last thing he wanted was to get into an argument, after all.

But Lee kept staring at the photo. "I'll never understand how you got her to marry you." He shook his head and finally met Bill's eyes. "Mom rescued fifty thousand civilians and brought them with us, you know. So you better remember to treat her better, because she's not the naive little schoolteacher you seem to remember. Has bigger balls than most men I've flown with." Lee shoved the picture into his father's hands, walked to the hatch and halted as he got there. "Get that cut looked at. You look like hell," he stated without a backward glance.

Bill's tiredness gave way to an ache as he watched Lee leave, only then inspecting the frame he held. He kept telling himself the picture belonged in his quarters because of Zak and not because of Laura, but he had to admit that after believing her dead for several hours, he was looking forward to seeing her again.

::::::::::

Almost three hours, one meeting with Tigh and an insufferable Baltar, eight stitches from Cottle, one accused Cylon and one Cylon device inside his CIC later, Bill finally headed towards the ward room. When he arrived, it was to find Laura seated behind a desk, listening to her aide in front of her as Val took notes by his side; he didn't bother to hide the smile appearing on his face by the presence of his family. "Medical supplies are running low again," Billy was saying as Laura looked up to meet his eyes— and Bill was sure he saw relief in them for barely a second before she turned back to her aide. "Three—"

"Oh my Gods, Bill!" He suddenly found himself locked inside a tight hug around his neck that rendered him out of air. "It was horrible, Bill, you should have seen Caprica. If your pilot hadn't found me..." The woman against him spoke rapidly, and he blinked twice when he finally recognized her.

"Carolanne?" He felt instantly guilty— his thoughts had gone towards his children and even Laura, completely forgetting about the other woman in those hours. "You mean Lieutenant Valerii?" he asked as she pulled back to nod and smile— and then noticed her watery eyes.

Carolanne gave him a quick kiss before she spoke again. "I'm so happy to see you. When she told me you were alive..." she trailed off, gesturing behind her and Bill realized she meant Laura. That's when he also became aware of the lack of Billy's voice— Laura, Billy and Val were completely silent, watching their exchange. "What happened to you?" Carolanne continued as she raised a hand to the cut in his forehead, and he stopped her gently in midair.

"We'll talk later," he promised.

"What? No," she said, and Bill was about to speak again when Laura cleared her throat. Carolanne turned her head just enough to finally realize they were interrupting. "Oh, you're busy. Okay. But I'm not leaving _Galactica_ , Bill."

"This is no place for civilians." But Carolanne answered nothing and Bill sighed before calling on one of the marines stationed outside of the room. "Escort her to the available guest quarters, and get her some clothes."

The marine nodded, but she didn't move. "But, I thought..." she began.

Laura rolled her eyes. She had assumed Bill would have her sharing his quarters with him. Lovely.

Apparently Bill caught her meaning too, as he shot Laura an awkward glance. "We'll talk later," he repeated. Carolanne accepted he wasn't going to cave on the matter and finally left with the marine. "My apologies," Bill said, crossing his hands in front of him.

"Apologies accepted, I'll be with you in a minute. Keep going, Billy," she urged with some indignation and Bill cringed; he remembered very well that the calmer she seemed the more pissed she was, she was making him wait for Carolanne's interruption. And Bill was fine with that, with the situation at hand it was only fair.

"Um..." The aide went through his notes, trying to remember where he left off until Val pointed at a particular spot in them. "Thanks. Three ships have reported engine trouble and wanted to know when they would receive engineering assistance from _Galactica_."

"That's a good question," she mused. She then tilted her head in Bill's direction as if expecting him to answer, but he simply stared back at her. Two could play her game. When she noticed his intentions, she gave him the faintest trace of a bitter smile and looked back at Billy. "What else?"

"The captain of the _Astral Queen_ wanted you to know he has over fifteen hundred convicted criminals in his cargo hold. They were being transported to a penal station when the attacks happened."

"Oh, great," Laura sighed. Bill didn't like it either, the resources she would want to waste on them...

"He wants to know what to do with them."

"What to do with them?" she repeated, frowning in confusion.

"Well, with food and medical supplies being what they are, I think he's considering just..." He left the rest unsaid, it was not like he had the stomach to say it out loud anyway.

"No, no. No, we're not going to start that," Laura was protesting, entwining her fingers on the table. "They're still human beings. Tell the captain I expect daily reports on the well-being of his prisoners, and if there are any mysterious deaths the _Astral Queen_ may find herself on her own, without _Galactica_ 's protection." She looked at Bill again and he got the message: she had gathered these people and now expected him to help her keep them safe. If only she understood he needed to get back out there and fight, dammit.

"Yes, Madam President."

"Tell Wally to keep an eye on the reports coming from the _Astral Queen_. Thank you," she dismissed them as they stood up. Billy exited the room as fast as he could, but Val walked over to her father and gave him a long-deserved hug.

"I'm glad you're safe," she said, and Bill echoed her words by pressing his lips against her forehead, fighting tears once again. When he released her, Val followed Billy and the hatch was shut close behind her.

Even alone at last, Bill still didn't move. Laura blinked slowly, waiting for him to sit down, but grew restless as he didn't. "Please, have a seat," she offered, feeling odd for making such a suggestion aboard _his_ ship. But Bill said nothing as he complied, his instincts warning him against whatever his ex-wife was about to say.

She toyed with her pen as they exchanged looks, and Bill suddenly understood why he felt that way. He remembered the last time he had been across a table from Laura like this— and the decision she had made that day.

::::::::::

 **Caprica City  
17 years before the Fall**

A rushed redhead passed by the restaurant window where Bill waited, having already picked a table for two. It was the place they usually chose when it was possible to have lunch together, as it was barely two blocks away from Laura's school. Once inside, she found him quickly and smiled, greeting him with a kiss and taking the seat in front of him.

"I have exactly one hour before I have to be back," she explained. "What are this news you have for me?"

The man took a deep breath. He would have wished to order before getting into the heart of the matter, but Laura was never one to wait. "I've been offered a position on Picon. Fleet Headquarters."

"Bill..." she began.

"Yes, I know, you don't want to move away from Caprica again. Your family is here, my family is here, I know," he said. "But it's the best position I can get without being assigned off planet."

She took a few seconds to choose her next words. "Maybe you should take a ship assignment."

"What?"

"You were happier aboard a ship, weren't you? It isn't just about the Fleet; it's about being surrounded by stars too."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, Laura. I don't want the kids to grow up without me."

"That's exactly what's already happening, Bill," she admonished. "You barely see us because you barely come home, and when you do come home you're still thinking about the Fleet instead of us. That's going to be true on Caprica, or Picon, or any other planet. I don't want to go anywhere not only because my dad and sisters live here, or because I already have a job, but because that won't change at all."

"That's not true," he said.

"Really? Do you remember when Zak lost his first tooth? You can't, you were on the shipyards in Scorpia. Are you even aware he lost another one yesterday?"

He wasn't, but he lied anyway. "Of course I knew."

Laura squinted. "Uh-huh. What about when Lee was on probation three months ago for pushing that kid that kept harassing his friend, who went to see the principal? I did. You were on Delphi."

"You are a teacher too, Laura, you didn't need me to deal with him."

She exhaled a worn out sigh. "It's not about me needing your help, Bill. I've never needed your help, and I certainly didn't marry you for that."

"Why did you marry me, then?" he asked.

"Because you made me happy," she said, and her expression changed as soon as the words came out of her mouth. A new realization shone in her eyes. "I'm not happy anymore," she announced, her voice much lower.

There it was. _The sad truth_.

"Neither am I," he agreed. "But we can still fix this."

"Can we? You don't agree with my decisions," she questioned.

His silence was short but enough of an answer in itself. "You don't agree with mine either."

"I don't," she accepted. "What are we doing, Bill? Two people that can't maintain a life together shouldn't be married."

Her words punctured like needles through his heart. _The risk_. She was absolutely right, and deep down he knew so too.

Bill sighed. "How did this happen? How did we get here?"

"I don't know, but it did happen," she determined. Bill realized where she was going and tried to hold her hands, but she recoiled them immediately.

"Laura—"

"I'm gonna—" she made a small pause, as if suddenly out of air, "go."

She adjusted her glasses, grabbed her purse in her arm and got up. Once out of her chair, her gaze returned to Bill.

"You know, all you had to do was not put the Fleet before me."

They both knew he could have said anything at that point, anything at all to justify himself, but the words never came out. It would feel even more painful, even more real if they did.

What hurt the most, however, was that Laura was giving up. He held her stare as he said, "Hey, you're the one that's leaving."

Her smile was sad. "You're the one that's not stopping me."

Bill didn't move from his chair. He didn't blink but his eyes dropped to his empty plate.

After a couple of seconds that felt like an eternity, she gave a tiny nod. "Yeah," she murmured, and stormed out of the restaurant.

 _The burden_.

Bill took his first ship assignment since his reinstatement aboard the _Atlantia_ soon after their divorce was finalized, two months later.

::::::::::

"Are you planning on staging a military coup?" she asked calmly.

Bill, still lost inside his memories, didn't register the question. "What?"

"Do you plan to declare Martial Law? Take over the government?" She was more specific this time, and he felt a pang of anger at the thought. How could she even consider he would?

"Of course not," he objected quickly— was it related to their history? Did she honestly think him capable of that? It was completely absurd.

"Then you do acknowledge my position as president as duly constituted under the articles of colonization."

He had no issue with her position, since he could hardly run a government from a war zone and didn't want to give it a try anyway. He had no interest in taking the civilian presidency for himself. Besides, the people she had gathered needed someone else when _Galactica_ left. "Laura," he began, using her name instead of her title deliberately, "what you need to understand is that my primary objective is to repair the _Galactica_ and continue to fight."

"And what you need to understand is that we have fifty thousand refugees out there who don't stand a chance without your ship to protect them, _Bill_." She spoke in a determined yet soft manner, as if trying to reach him.

"We're aware of the tactical situation, and I'm sure that you'll all be safe here on Ragnar after we leave."

"After you leave," she repeated in disbelief. But rather than questioning it, she gathered her patience, straightened in her seat and asked, "Where are you going?"

"To find the enemy. We're at war— that's my mission," he stated simply. It was a concept she had never sympathized with, but Bill hoped that maybe now, with the attacks, it would be different.

She stared at him for a while instead, finally letting a mirthless smile appear on her face. The same stubborn soldier she knew, who didn't know when to quit. "I really don't know why I have to keep telling you this, but the war is over."

"It hasn't begun yet," he said evenly, forcing the irritation away from his voice.

"That's insane," she pointed out. Gods, _this_ conversation was insane.

"You'd rather that we run?"

"Yes, absolutely," she answered back without hesitation. "That is the only sane thing to do here. Exactly that, run. We leave this solar system and we don't look back."

"And we go where?" he countered.

"I don't know." Laura had to get up— she took a step away from him to regain her composure, because she could not _believe_ Bill wasn't even considering it. She placed her hands on her hips as she paced, not looking at him. "Another star system. Another planet. Somewhere where the Cylons won't find us."

"You can run if you like. This ship will stand, and she will fight."

She turned back and leaned over the table, spreading her fingers over the surface. "I'm gonna be straight with you here," she said, masking her frustration behind a condescending tone and he noticed she was talking like a teacher explaining something basic to a small child. "The human race is about to be wiped out. We have fifty thousand people left and that's it. Now, you don't have the _might_ of the Colonial Fleet at your disposal, Commander. Not even a quarter of the Fleet. You have one battlestar, one!" Though she wasn't yelling, Laura raised her voice as she spoke. "This isn't war— it's survival. If we are even going to survive as a species, then we need to get the hell out of here and we need _our_ children to start having babies!"

She was sure neither Lee nor Val would appreciate being volunteered for the task of repopulating their civilization, but realistically speaking— their generation was to be in charge of their numbers in the near future. Maybe not them personally, but soon...

Bill stood as well, slowly, forcing her to back away and straighten again to avoid a collision. He was on her face, so close her breath caught a little— his eyes were so blue she felt them piercing into her soul. "Get back to your ship before we jump," Bill murmured, but the tone didn't make it less than an order. "Excuse me," he finished, walked to the hatch and focused on nothing else than his footsteps as he strode down the corridor leading to CIC.

Laura was all alone once more, her heart furious and sinking when she watched him leave, their last chance of survival leaving with him.


	10. All of this has happened before, part 10

Big thanks to L_E_HAHA for reminding me I was due to post this ;)

Also, my beta Jules was awesome as always when she got to beta this chapter. All remaining mistakes are mine, I own them completely.

Thank you for the reviews! Reading them always make my day. Enjoy!

* * *

 _Just when you think it can't get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can't get any better, it can._

::::::::::

"How the hell did they find us?" Tigh growled, and Bill stared at the nav chart in front of him as Starbuck's words resonated through his mind. An entire Cylon fleet outside the storm. _You don't have the_ might _of the Colonial Fleet at your disposal, Commander. Not even a quarter of the Fleet. You have one battlestar, one!_ Zero room for movement.

"Doesn't really matter," he answered, glancing back at his XO. "They've got us."

"Why aren't they coming after us, sir?" Gaeta chimed in, and Tigh snorted before Bill could reply.

"Why should they? They can just sit out there and wait us out. What difference does it make to them, they're machines. We're the ones who need food, medicine, fuel..." Bill turned at Saul's words, thinking; as much as he wanted to go out there, guns blazing, it was a poor tactical move. He would rather roll the hard six: attempt the unexpected.

"I'm not going to play their game. Not gonna go out there and try to fight them." Lee and Tigh looked at him in surprise, but neither said anything. Bill glanced at Gaeta. "Can we plot a jump from inside the storm?"

"With all this EM interference mucking up the FTL fix?" It was Saul who spoke, his tone incredulous, and Gaeta nodded slightly.

"I tend to agree, sir. I don't think we should even attempt a jump until we've cleared the storm's threshold." The young officer waved at the nav chart behind him and Lee stepped a little closer to the table.

"We'll have to be quick about it though— they'll launch everything they have, first glimpse they get." He spoke exchanging looks with Tigh and Gaeta, and Bill suppressed a sigh; his son was clearly still stung by their conversation back at his quarters and the way he had spoken to Laura. And as if the mere thought of her could conjure her aide, Billy appeared and walked over to Dee at the comm station. Bill followed their conversation despite not being able to hear their voices, while the others still argued on how to attempt the jump; these kids had their lives in front of them and were marching to war.

 _This isn't war_ — _it's survival. If we are even going to survive as a species, then we need to get the hell out of here and we need_ our _children to start having babies!_ He couldn't risk leaving Val and Laura behind, as without _Galactica_ , they wouldn't survive. They wouldn't, he knew. Laura would never abandon her people now, despite the circumstances in which she found them thrust upon her, and Val wouldn't leave her mother. And he had lost them once—

Then something inside him clicked. _Frak that woman, she's right_. "They better start having babies." Bill spoke his thoughts aloud, effectively shutting up the buzz of angry voices around him.

Tigh stared at him quietly, clearly amused behind his also apparent confusion. "Is that an order?" he asked.

No, it wasn't. Not yet anyway. But it was a realization that the former secretary of education —the new president, his own ex-wife—, was right all along. What good would it do for what was left of humanity, to lose the only protection they had now? _Galactica_ needed to remain with them and that meant running away, leaving the Colonies behind. "Maybe before too long," he admitted. "Okay, we're going to take the civilians with us. We're going to leave this solar system and we're not going to come back."

"We're running?" Tigh questioned with disbelief.

"This war is over." He looked directly at the colonel as he spoke. "We lost." There was a brief pause and Lee nodded.

"My father's right." Bill's eyes shot to Lee's and they exchanged a look, both of them silently acknowledging who was actually right there, even when she wasn't present. "It's time for us to get out of here." Bill found himself suppressing a smile— it was so much like Lee to support his mother when he believed she was right. And that, at least for this particular conundrum, was a good thing.

"So where are we going, Commander?" Tigh addressed him, and Bill was grateful for his XO— not debating his order even when he didn't really agree with it.

"The Prolmar sector," he answered promptly. Where the tribes had supposedly come through before finding the Colonies, it was the closest thing they had to a familiar zone out of the system.

"That's way past the red line," Saul pointed out, and Bill ignored the obvious statement. Of course it was past the red line. That was the whole point.

"Can you plot that jump?" he asked Gaeta, though it wasn't really a question.

"I've never plotted a jump that far, sir."

"No one has, can you plot that jump?" he repeated, mustering a calm tone in his voice to keep him that way. He trusted his officer's skills.

Gaeta nodded after a beat. "Yes, sir." His voiced sounded somewhat more confident than before and Bill nodded proudly.

"Do it. By yourself." He couldn't stress that last bit enough, and Gaeta nodded once more as he left. Bill then exchanged a last glance with Tigh before turning over to the nav chart. "This is a bad tactical position," he acknowledged. "We'll pull _Galactica_ out five clicks." He traced the chart with his hand as he spoke. "The civilians will come out behind us, cross the threshold and make the jump, while we hold off the Cylons," he finished gravely. The whole purpose of the military was to protect the Colonies under any circumstance, except the Colonies were not planets any more, they were back to their core— the people. Those sixty-three ships, inside their hulls, carried everything they had left, and their duty was not to protect them until there was another Colony to defend.

"Once the civilians have made the jump, every fighter is to make an immediate combat landing. We don't have much time," he continued, this time speaking to Lee. His son would be among the pilots risking their lives, making it the first time Bill was ordering him into a fight— and unable to find anything to say. And even if he could find the words, saying them now, in the middle of CIC for what could possibly be the last battle they ever fought, just wasn't safe. It could be a distraction for both him and Lee.

"I'll tell them," Lee said, taking his new position as CAG seamlessly.

"I want _all_ my pilots to return. Do you understand?" Bill knew people under his command would not be coming back today, but he wanted them fighting until the very end. For a chance of a future— all together.

Lee nodded. "Yes, sir, I do." He then walked away to attend to his duties, and Bill watched him go with a sigh.

"Can I ask what changed your mind?" Saul leaned on the table and raised an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

"You can _ask_ ," he replied. He wasn't in the mood to explain why he was now inclined to agree with the incredibly stubborn president, and he couldn't explain it in any case. He was aware she still didn't stand him, and he still hated her guts.

Tigh merely shook his head in silent amusement. "Frakking woman," he said and Bill almost smiled, his friend's words were incredibly close to his own thoughts. "But you have to admit— she's crazy. We're fighting for our lives and she wants us to stop for a moment and try the old, 'make love, not war' philosophy? Does she even understand the concept of war? Or did she skip that part during her lessons?"

"Insane as she may be, ignorant as she may be, she has a point, Saul. And she's the boss now," Bill reminded him.

"So the lady just strolls in here, tells you to start frakking like bunnies, and you're back under her spell like a lap dog? Frak, Bill, I know you loved her, but if that's all it takes... better inform Carolanne she's got competition now," he joked.

"Saul," Bill warned. It wasn't the time to take on Tigh's retorts on his love life.

The colonel shrugged slightly and started laughing, but swallowed it quickly at Bill's glare. "Sir. What do we do about our prisoner?" he asked, back to business.

Bill was silent for a moment, before running a palm over his face. He didn't like the idea, but it was the only way. "Have the marines bring him to the airlock. We're not taking him with us."

::::::::::

They had made it. Barely.

Laura counted the ships she saw outside as they blinked into view, filling the empty space that lay between them and the army of stars outside her window. Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine... not including those to the left of Colonial One, where she couldn't see them at the moment. But she had to keep herself busy— the image of dozens of Vipers flying out of _Galactica_ , to take on _three_ Cylon basestars, haunted her mind; Lee was on one of those and she might not see him again. Her hands gripped the armrests, her nails digging into the soft leather of the liner's seats.

No more blinks came through and her heart picked up its pace as she waited. She exchanged looks with Val, seated in front of her, her pursed lips proof enough of her own worries. Laura wanted to calm her down, but she found no words for that purpose as they resumed their silent watch out the window.

"They'll be here any minute now, ma'am." It was Billy who spoke next to her in a whisper, meant to reassure them. Such a sweet young man... Laura had to smile at his attempt; she marveled at the irony that of course she had found the perfect aide at the end of the world, when she wouldn't need one soon.

"Mom!" Val exclaimed, and Laura turned to her excited voice to find _Galactica_ out the window, her impressive size taking up most of the view. The battlestar appeared more bruised and battered than before, practically hissing her irritation as steam was propelled from the several ducts and airlocks from stern to stem. Laura exhaled heavily, as if finally allowing herself to feel tired.

"Billy, can you go tell the pilot—"

"I'll ask him to dock inside _Galactica_ right away, ma'am," he said as he got up.

Laura shot him another grateful smile. "Thank you, Billy." She then returned her gaze to the ship, to watch as the giant got even closer when the hangar deck engulfed _Colonial One_ again.

::::::::::

The battle was over, but there was still a lot to be done: dispatching the emergency repair teams, paying a visit to Doc Cottle to hear the final toll of injuries and deaths; getting _Galactica_ back into Condition Two but ready for an unexpected attack.

As he finished his duties, a marine awaiting outside Life Station informed him the president was on board and on her way to his quarters, eliciting an exhausted sigh from him. Tigh had the watch back on CIC... he wanted to rest for a while before meeting anyone again. In any case, he walked to meet her and found another two marines outside his hatch, their presence informing him Laura was already inside.

After returning their salutes, he crossed the threshold to see Laura and her aide waiting for him near the entrance, the former seemingly interested in his quarters. Perhaps she was comparing what she saw with the stuff she recalled, Bill guessed, as her glance at the bookcase was accompanied by a modest smile.

"Commander—" She took a step towards him as soon as she noticed his arrival.

"Lee's fine," he assured her, and she nodded her gratitude. "What can I do for you?" he added as he took a seat on his couch and gestured for them to do the same. He was simply too tired to deal with protocol. Laura accepted the invitation and Billy followed, staying by her side as he shifted uncomfortably on his spot.

"I thought you'd want to honor those who didn't make it— a memorial service, of sorts." Laura explained. "You might remember Elosha, she's is aboard _Colonial One_. The priestess you met at the ceremony. Which honestly, seems like a lifetime ago."

He frowned slightly; priests and priestess had always made him uncomfortable, like they knew all the answers for questions any person should barely understand in the first place. Still, that was the kind of thing his crew needed at the moment. "That's a good idea," he accepted, nodding. "We can use the starboard hangar, half the crap from the decommissioning is still there."

"Billy, can you arrange that? In a few hours, of course. I'm sure the commander and his crew need to rest."

"Absolutely, Madam President." Billy nodded as he scribbled his notes quickly.

"Thank you. And I have to admit my main reason for being here was getting news of Lee, but since I already did..." She stood up as she spoke and Billy mirrored her movements, efficient as ever.

Yet the commander sank into the couch. He was unmistakably tired, but as Laura was already there, he might as well catch her up on the recent developments. "There's something else we need to discuss, Madam President." She got the hint when he didn't elaborate: discuss _alone_.

She wore a neutral expression as she addressed her aide, but Bill could tell she was wary. "I'll go back to _Colonial One_ on my own, Billy," she ordered. He nodded and left through the hatch, and Laura sat down again. "I suppose this is where I thank you for deciding to bring us—"

"Listen. You were right, I was wrong," he began. He would rather get it out of the way first, since that was hardly what anyone would have liked to admit to their ex.

"I didn't come for that."

"I know; let's just leave it at that." He wasn't going to say it again, that much he knew.

She nodded slowly. "All right." She then waited for him to explain while gazing at his neutral expression.

"You should know that the Cylons... they look like us now. Human. Right down to the blood." He glanced down at his hands, remembering the unsettling but familiar liquid dripping from his fingers just hours before.

"What— what are you talking about?"

"I had an encounter with one of them in Ragnar, before you came," he explained, and Laura's thoughts went from a little self-indulgence —the colonel had lied to her and something had happened to Bill at the station, which meant she was right _twice_ — to genuine worry. "With what I thought was a man."

Laura remained silent, frowning slightly as her mind processed the information. But then, cautious as always, she asked, "How did you know?"

"A hunch, at first. He was sick. The storm at Ragnar does that to synthetics— and he got a lot worse quickly." Conoy's words replayed inside his mind, along with the unnerving honesty in them. "He admitted it."

"What did you do with him— it?"

"Killed it," he stated simply. Laura pursed her lips and nodded. "I also had reason to believe _Galactica_ had a Cylon on board, so we ran tests on the body. Then Baltar took samples from those on board, extrapolated _something_ from the tests on the Cylon corpse —which frankly, I can't follow the process—, and found out one was synthetic."

Laura closed her eyes as she took the news, her dismay painted clearly across her features. This was how the Colonies had fallen, then. If the nearly retired _Galactica_ had been infiltrated, the Cylons must have sent agents to every ship in the Fleet. "Which one?" she pressed.

"Aaron Doral's." She felt an indescribable relief at his answer, she had an explanation for her distrust against him. But also, they were talking about an outsider— what would happen to the morale of the crew if one of _them_ was a Cylon? And to the commander himself? "He also led us to a device nobody recognized from before the ceremony— Cylon too." Bill decided to leave the part about where they had found it — _his_ CIC, of all places— out for now.

"I didn't like him," she admitted. "Where is he?"

"Ragnar."

"Ragnar?"

"Ragnar," he repeated sternly, and Laura took it as a refusal to let his decision be questioned. Military men were always like that, so caught in their ways that civilians seemed to know nothing in comparison. "He was a danger to this ship."

"But you had no proof beyond the doctor's word," she refuted. "You said so yourself— you don't even understand the tests."

"I'm aware of that." He spoke evenly, knowing very well that he had left something —Cylon, human—, to die at the Anchorage. It wasn't the first time his orders led to a death.

Laura glanced at him for a beat, and to his surprise, nodded in approval. "Good," she said. She should have been present during the decision-making process given her position, but she agreed with it. A Cylon —even suspected, as was the case— was more of a danger than an asset at this time. If the machines were able to build humanoid bodies, they could also device a way to communicate with each other that the Colonials didn't know— and expose the fleet's current location.

They remained in silence for a moment, until Laura cleared her throat. "I appreciate what you told me, Commander. I think we both need to rest." She got on her feet and Bill did the same to see her off, and she pondered over the news as the marines escorted her back to _Colonial One_. She felt frustrated; he had shared the information on humanoid Cylons, but was still willing to step over her presidency if he saw fit. After all, she was just a _schoolteacher_ in his eyes, and that meant that her promise to Billy was to remain a complete lie— Commander Adama would not be learning about her cancer. She would not give him any excuse to doubt her.


	11. All of this has happened before, part 11

This chapter marks the end of the miniseries, at last! I've had so much fun writing this :D I'm not planning to take a break for the time being, so you can expect the beginning of season 1 in a few weeks, as usual.

Thanks again for the reviews, follows and favourites!

And thanks to Jules for being my lovely beta. Enjoy!

* * *

 _You may not end up where you thought you were going, but you will always end up where you were meant to be._

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By the time Laura stepped back onto the deck with Billy and Val, most of the attendants were already there. They had saved a spot for her between the commander and the colonel, while her aide and daughter gathered with the press behind the rows of officers, and the sudden lack of civilian company made her feel uneasy. This was his ship. His crew. His people. Mourning their losses in front of a president not many knew had been married to William Adama once. She felt like an intruder.

Lee had found Kara and they had settled together a row behind, waiting for the service to begin without striking a conversation. But as Laura made her entrance, Kara's gaze followed her walk with interest; she couldn't pinpoint why that woman was so familiar to her. She had already been briefed— the secretary of education turned president by being on _Galactica_ at the right time, but that wasn't it. Lee noticed her unrest from the corner of his eyes and was about to ask her when she said, "I've seen her before."

Lee frowned. "Of course you have. At Zak's funeral," he replied, barely glancing at her before standing back to attention and looking straight ahead. "She's Laura Roslin, my mother."

Kara's face went blank as she connected the dots; she kind of recalled Zak telling her once about his mother being a secretary for Adar's government. He had never introduced them, though. And now that Lee mentioned it— she did remember seeing her fiance's mom at the service, clutching a colonial flag in her arms with a faraway look in her eyes, perhaps lost in a memory as she stared down at the coffin without looking. She tried to take a second glimpse at the woman from where she stood and failed, but the color of her hair brought back memories... She forced herself to snap out of it.

"So, Mamma Adama is president now?" she whispered after a beat. "Guess the Old Man's not thrilled about it, huh."

Lee shook his head. "To put it mildly."

Starbuck's sardonic expression was short-lived, as she realized it was yet another person that had been part of Zak's life and therefore, another person she was keeping the truth from. What she had done for him. Lee sensed her tensing and gently bumped his shoulder against hers in reassurance, making Kara nod her agreement. She knew it wasn't as bad as not telling the commander. She was frakked either way, that wasn't new.

Elosha began the rites by addressing the crowd, and the pilots straightened back on their spots just like the rest of the crew. The service went on and the somber mood settled in, and that was enough for Kara to shove the president back into the least of her worries; the priestess' prayer washed over her like a much needed balm.

"With heavy hearts, we lift up their bodies to you, oh Lords of Kobol, in the knowledge that you will take from them their burdens and give them life eternal. We also pray that you look upon us now with mercy and love just as you did upon our forefathers many years ago." The priestess spoke calmly, soothing the wounded crew with her words with the reassurance that this, Gods willing, was not the end. "Just as you led us from Kobol and found the twelve worlds, so now we hope and pray that you will lead to a new home, where we may begin life anew. So say we all."

"So say we all," the crowd echoed. Yet Bill's voice was louder than anyone else's, and Laura looked at him in surprise as he took a step forward, turning to face them all right in front of her. She saw determination in his eyes, a feeling that was so familiar but also very different from their earlier argument about leaving Ragnar. "So say we all," he repeated, this time even louder. The crew mumbled a response and he paced a couple of steps before shouting at them again, eliciting a proper response from them in true military fashion. Laura didn't take part in it, choosing instead to watch the commander as he repeated a prayer for the Gods he didn't even believe in.

"Are they the lucky ones? That's what you're thinking, isn't it?" he asked as he walked over to the platform, his deep voice being carried through the room. His stern appearance and strong expression gave the audience a sense of awe as they stared at him. "We're a long way from home. We've jumped way beyond the red line, into uncharted space. Limited supplies. Limited fuel. No allies. And now, no hope?" He questioned her, his, and their fears aloud and the crowd stilled, standing uncomfortably under Bill's scrutinizing gaze; nobody seemed willing to admit the reality of their situation besides him.

"Maybe it would have been better if we'd all died quickly, back in the Colonies with our families, instead of dying out here slowly in the emptiness of dark space." Laura squinted slightly, the rest of her face impassive as she heard him but wondering inside what the frak was he doing exactly. Still, she knew Bill was a soldier at heart and every action he chose had a purpose, she just couldn't see it yet. "Where shall we go? What shall we do?" The crowd remained silent, shocked by the hard, brutal truth he spoke of and Laura supposed more than one had to thank their military training for not breaking down and weeping right there.

"' _Life here began out there._ ' Those are the first words of the sacred scrolls. And they were told to us by the Lords of Kobol, many countless centuries ago. And they made it perfectly clear that we are not alone in the universe," he continued, giving one last glance across the hangar before turning to the priestess. Again, nobody dared to move. "Elosha. There's a thirteenth colony of humankind, is there not?"

"Yes, the scrolls tell us a thirteenth tribe left Kobol in the early days. They travelled far and made their home upon a planet called Earth, which circled a distant and unknown star," Elosha answered in a calm tone, yet her confusion was clear by the way she gazed at him.

And suddenly Laura knew. She understood what he was about to do and almost grinned as she recognized the brilliant tactical move he was about to lay in front of them.

"It's not unknown. I know where it is! Earth." He savored the word triumphantly. "The most guarded secret we have. The location was only known by the senior commanders of the Fleet, and we dare not share it with the public. Not while there was a Cylon threat upon us. For now we have a refuge to go to, a refuge that the Cylons know nothing about!" Whispers grew behind her ears, among the officers full of disbelief and wonder. And Laura merely stood there, her eyes fixed on him and her composure unyielding as she heard the words she knew were far from true.

"It won't be an easy journey. It will be long and arduous. But I promise you one thing: on the memory of those lying before you, we shall find it. And Earth will become our new home. So say we all!" Bill walked back as he chanted, and this time his officers followed accordingly one, two, three times; the fourth time being answered by the priestess alone. "Dismissed."

Then, applause erupted everywhere— the crowd celebrated the unbelievable turn of events as fear and hopelessness were shoved aside. Laura had never seen them as cheerful as then in the time since the decommissioning ceremony, so she stood on her spot, forcing a well-practiced politician's smile as she clenched her hands together even tighter while the commander walked past her and into the crowd.

Once he was out of her view, she licked her lips and crossed her arms as she looked ahead, intent on finding a place on the wall where she couldn't figure out a single face of those besides her. She dared not to look at the people cheering behind her— and hoped for her own sanity that her children's voices were not among the ones she heard. It was wrong on many levels, but it was also imperative; giving hope, false or not, would keep them away from despair. And so, she just chose to take part of the burden in the gigantic lie the crew now held inside their hearts without question, well aware Bill wasn't the only one sugar-coating the harsh future ahead of them.

::::::::::

The galley had sent his request —noodles, of course— promptly, and the feeling of warm food in his mouth elicited a growl of approval from deep inside his chest. Little over a full day had elapsed since the decommissioning ceremony, but it seemed an eternity longer.

So he finally had some time to eat a proper meal after the service and clean up his quarters for a bit. Several books were out of his bookcase, which was no longer needed as he wasn't leaving _Galactica_ anymore; Bill marveled at the irony that he had been delaying the packing of his quarters for days, and now he didn't need to reorganize it all again.

But he barely had sat down and gotten a mouthful of noodles when he heard a knock at the hatch, and he tried to chew it down quickly to grant access. The entrance opened before that, though, yet Laura still didn't make her way inside. "Come in," he said at last and she did— slowly and looking at her surroundings, as if expecting something else entirely. It took Bill a couple of seconds to realize she had anticipated to see Carolanne there with him, and took a deep, awkward breath. He was indeed due to visit her, now that the danger had passed.

Laura took a seat at the other end of the couch, not waiting for an invitation this time. And knew her instincts were correct —she didn't need one— when Bill flashed a fleeting smile towards her before finishing the bite.

She studied him in the meantime, finally tilting her head at his gaze full of curiosity. "You made it all up," she said simply. Her tone held no accusation as she quirked the corners of her mouth into a discreet smirk. "There is no Earth." She waited for his answer but he merely stared back, so it was her who conceded as she elaborated, "President Adar and I once spoke about the legends surrounding Earth. He knew nothing about a secret location regarding Earth, and if the president knew nothing about it, what are the chances you do?"

He bit down a remark about how _of course_ she had spoken to Adar before admitting, "You're right. There is no Earth." He had seen it in her eyes, from the moment he had opened his mouth: Laura had been aware of the lie since then. "It's all a legend."

"Then, why?"

"Because," he sighed as he took a couple of books from the table and placed them on top of a third one, resigning himself not to eat the rest of the meal soon. "It's not enough to live, you have to have something to live for." He then looked back at Laura. "Let it be Earth."

She hummed. How long could they keep that charade? Whatever the answer, it was worth trying. "They'll never forgive us," she pointed out calmly, and Bill's heart beat louder inside his chest as he heard the word ' _we_ '. They hadn't been a _we_ in so long, that the idea that this was not his burden alone, that Laura was willing to share it despite everything, that she'd keep his secret from the fleet made him more grateful than words could say.

"Maybe," he agreed in a low tone, watching the slight changes in her features. He remembered the lovely smile he used to elicit from her and for a moment, illuminated by the dim light of his quarters, he wanted nothing more than to have that again. To have _her_ again. "But in the meantime, I've given all of us a fighting chance to survive. And isn't that what you said was the most important thing, the survival of the human race?" he said, and her eyes went soft as she heard him.

"And there I was, thinking you didn't listen to me," she teased him, a gentle smile now dancing on her lips. Bill felt a shiver run down his spine; it was _so close_ to his memories that, if only...

But he settled for a glance towards her and flashed a sheepish grin as he confessed, "Not that I wanted to, but I did."

Laura hummed again and shook her head as she lowered her sight to the table, clearly not surprised but still amused. She had been down all possible roads with Bill Adama, and yet life had found a way to create a new one now. One that, she was sure, would not be easy... She raised her eyes again and found him staring back, the blueness of his gaze behind his glasses completely mesmerizing. She inhaled deeply and licked her lips without noticing, her teeth sinking for a fleeting second against her lower lip as she lost herself in the comfortable sensation of his company. But as soon as she caught him lowering his gaze to her mouth, Laura got on her feet and crossed her arms uncomfortably as Bill cleared his throat, letting whatever that was pass by.

"Who else knows?" she asked then, her voice reverting into a more professional tone.

"Not a soul," he confirmed.

"All right, I'll keep your secret. We need to work together," she stated, and then took a slow breath as she chose her next words carefully. "There's a whole, breathing city out there, encased in a collection of ships. There are children, families, hospitals, refineries, botanical cruises, luxury liners, transport freighters... everything left of our civilization."

"And they need a government," Bill finished for her. He had said some things —believed her _unable_ to carry on with the task—, but his doubts came from a logical place. He knew Laura had been capable of dealing with many things in her past, but, who would have been ready for any of this? Bill had been at war before, and while it didn't give him full understanding of their new situation, it had to count for something.

"A _civilian_ government run by the president of the colonies, yes," she agreed with caution.

Yet during the last war, the colonies had come together under the articles of colonization and a single president, and Bill had to remember that. Furthermore, she was probably the most qualified person left. "We should work together," he repeated her words as he nodded, and Laura knew it was as much of an acknowledgment of her presidency as she was going to get for the time being. "Military decisions stay with me, though," he added as he stood up as well and began placing the buttons from his jacket back into their holes.

She froze at his words. It would be unprecedented for her to agree, but she had no one else to replace him with if she didn't; she doubted Saul Tigh had left his drinking problem behind, and the commander's crew was nothing if not loyal to him. Besides, she didn't want to replace him— she knew most of Bill's qualities and flaws, which gave her clues about how to deal with him. If she was to cede to a balance of power, he was the best choice for it. So she mirrored his gesture by nodding too, sealing the deal.

There was just one last detail she needed to address after the truce they had settled for, then: the press was going to have a field trip once they learned about their marriage. She knew she was better at compartmentalization than he was, a fact she had proven to herself daily when she worked for a man she had been having an affair with for years. Laura had never let Adar personalize their working relationship, and she prayed for the same clarity with Bill in the tenuous balance they were about to embark into. "We can't let work get personal. We'll need to separate the president and the commander from our children's parents."

"We will," he assured her. The calmness in his tone gave her pause— he knew the stakes. He knew the risks. She was not alone in her worries.

"All right." Bill offered his hand and the gesture felt like a reminder of their goodbye after the decommissioning, except it now meant the exact opposite: an agreement in order to deal with the problems ahead of them— the Cylon threat, fifty thousand humans out there, Lee, Val, all that was left.

She uncrossed her arms and took it as she looked into his eyes— and found understanding in them. Laura did not retract her hand, nor did Bill; the contact lingered longer than usual, the warm skin second only to the warmth in their gazes. The future promised to bring more challenges, but they would face them head on.

Together.


	12. The distance between you and me, part 1

Season 1 is in, finally! I look forward to your feedback. And again, thank you for your comments and favs!

It's worth mentioning that this chapter contains spoilers for Blood & Chrome, though if you haven't seen it yet... I don't really recommend it either. The bar left by the reimagined series was just too high ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

 _After a certain point, you just can't go back to where you started. Even if you want to._

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"So you had a call sign?" she asked as she placed a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. The leaves from the tree in which Bill sat against moved constantly with the wind, compelling Laura to sometimes obscure her lovely features with her bare hand to protect her eyes from the intense Caprican summer sun.

"Yeah, all pilots do."

"What was yours?"

"Husker."

"What's a ' _Husker'_?" she said, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

"I am." He chuckled. "I didn't start as a Viper pilot, Commander Nash assigned me to the Raptor squadron because while I was eager to get my hands dirty, I was too cocky for his taste."

Laura snorted. "I can't imagine why." He flashed her a look full of false disdain and she giggled, which in turn made Bill grab her arm and pull her towards him. "Ow! Wait!" Her protests where swiftly muffled by a laugh as he placed her sideways onto his lap and hugged her by the waist. She slapped his chest playfully before melting into his touch. "You are _impossible_ , Bill Adama."

"Yeah, okay," he admitted, smiling as well. Laura leaned against his chest as she listened, her temple resting on his shoulder. "My co-pilot lost his partner and took it out on the replacement, me. He assumed I was a farmer boy from Tauron before I joined the Fleet; hence, Husker. So when I finally sat on a Viper, everyone was already calling me that. Said it matched my voice over the comms." He shrugged slightly, just enough not to move her. "Husky."

She hummed in response. She could picture him perfectly— fifteen years younger, not exactly an adult yet but anxious to prove his worth and kick Cylons' asses, and too wrapped around himself to accept a call sign that was intended to make fun of him. The thought made her smile fondly.

"Is that where they come from, then?" she asked next, raising her head slightly to catch his eyes. As those startling green eyes waited expectantly, Bill couldn't help but love her down to her teacher curiosity.

"Yes and no. Can be from anyone: your squad mates during basic flight, your instructors... your superiors when you get your first assignment," he explained. "Sometimes you get caught in whatever awful name your friends come up with as a joke. Sometimes your call sign gets a renewal, although it's not that common, if you have a big change in your life. It works pretty much like a nickname."

She hummed again. "It suits you," she decided. "I like it."

Resting her head back on his shoulder, Laura sighed contently as Bill pressed a kiss against her hair. He took the opportunity to draw lazy circles on her back as well, and the couple remained in silence for a while as Laura closed her eyes, eager to lose herself among the sounds of the park: wind dancing between leaves, people laughing, Bill's steady breath beneath her. She could stay in that perfect moment forever.

"You'll fall asleep." Bill spoke in his low tone, making her smile anew.

"No, I won't," she said, fully aware the sound of his voice could indeed lull her to sleep. So instead, she opened her eyes and looked at him, ready to ask him another question about his service—

"Madam President!" Billy's voice, full of distress, brought her back as she jerked her hand away from the Viper's hull. The aide came to a halt when he registered her, realizing he had clearly interrupted something.

And he had, in a way. Laura had found herself wandering through the lower decks of _Colonial One_ , until she had arrived at the Viper Lee had flown during the initial attack. The crew of _Galactica_ had scheduled a retrieval now that the battlestar was reorganizing its resources for what was to come, but had had other priorities so far.

The tail numbering read N7242C. Just below the cockpit window Laura had distinguished a clear _LT. WILLIAM ADAMA_ in capital letters, painted on a plate screwed to the spacecraft. She had placed her fingertips on the last word of the nameplate, her touch delicate as a feather as if she somehow expected the commander to show up at any given time. _Husker_. How could a call sign that meant nothing to her stir so many memories inside of her, so many ghosts she thought she had already buried decades ago? Perhaps because it meant the world to Bill, and he had been her everything once.

Her aide had found her there instead, reminiscing about a word she knew by heart. "What is it, Billy?" she asked, masking the awkwardness she felt under her most professional tone.

"The Cylons found us, ma'am. All ships are making emergency jumps."

Laura nodded, trying to ignore the sudden and unpleasant sensation in her gut. "Let's go," she instructed, walking quickly towards the stairs with Billy behind her. Her presence in the cockpit served for nothing, but she felt the need to be there nonetheless.

18 hours. The fleet had 18 hours of relative peace, barely enough to unscramble the remaining people, address some critical concerns and get some hours of sleep after jumping away from Ragnar. She had even managed to find a window of opportunity to allow herself some alone time... and now, she had to get back to her new routine of dealing with one crisis after another. Quite literally.

::::::::::

"Jump 236 complete."

"All civilian ships present and accounted for, sir," Dee informed, just like she had done two hundred, thirty-five times before. It had become like some sort of cue for the rest of CIC to slow down, now that the Cylons were gone— for the next thirty-three minutes.

"Start the clock," Tigh snapped, resisting the urge to rub his eyes and give in to exhaustion. They needed to plot the next jump. "Mr. Gaeta—"

"On it, sir," he answered as quickly as he could, managing to diminish the weary timbre in his voice. He moved away from his console and towards the star map already deployed from the last cycle.

"Commander, I've got _Colonial One_ on the line." Dee didn't wait for confirmation to put the call through, as the president called whenever she could.

Bill gave a slight nod and picked up the receiver. "Adama."

"Commander." Laura's voice ran smoothly through the line, washing him like a wave of salt water despite the hoarseness in it from the lack of sleep. He could almost _feel_ a rush of awareness going through his whole body —which was ridiculous, of course, he couldn't literally feel it—, waking him up. "How was the last cycle?"

"No losses," he informed. If he wasn't so tired, he would have puffed his chest in pride.

She sighed with relief. "That's good to hear." She spoke slowly, evidently exhausted as well. Then, her voice became a whisper as she asked, "Is Lee all right?"

There was a brief pause on the line and Laura held her breath. Even though her mind was completely focused on her duties —receiving the census updates and ships supplies requirements' from Billy, reading captains' concerns, coordinating refueling efforts for smaller ships—, she just couldn't stop thinking about Lee. She had urged him to leave the military less than a week ago and he hadn't exactly disagreed with her, but that wasn't an option anymore... she had every reason to be concerned for her son.

"He's holding up." _Just like the rest of us._ Bill had no doubt Lee had risen to the occasion and was the best CAG _Galactica_ could have at the moment. Five days without sleep, more than two hundred cycles and most of them had zero losses. He was sure that was Lee's doing.

Laura flashed a drained smile towards her phone and nodded, even when she knew Bill couldn't see her. "I'm glad. If you talk to him..."

"I'll tell him you called," he said, like he had done each time she asked about Lee.

"Thank you, Commander." Nothing she said was new at this point, so she just repeated her own words from her previous calls. "Let me know if anything changes."

::::::::::

The stacks of documents on the desk eventually gave way to another one resting on the floor, accumulated by the feet of it. The _'To be Addressed Later'_ pile grew on each cycle, as Val kept bringing more and more printed papers with her each time she came back from the cockpit, the never ending concerns of the fleet taking a toll on the already exhausted personnel.

"Two more ships presented malfunctions with their FTLs last cycle. That makes nine plus _Colonial One_ ," she said, shortly before handing the reports to Laura and occupying one of the free passenger seats close to the desk. Falling on the cushioned furniture, she rubbed her eyes in an effort to stay awake.

"Thank you. We're cutting it a little close..." Laura gave half of the new pile to Billy and glanced at the young woman over the rim of her glasses as she suggested, "You should get some sleep." Val had been helpful so far, but she had no obligation to keep on working. And yet, she had been a bridge between her mother's improvised office and the comm traffic from the cockpit, for which Laura was extremely grateful.

"No, it's okay. I wouldn't be able to anyway." She shook her head as she spoke, stopping mid-motion when she decided it was too much of an effort. "There's not enough time between jumps. Besides..." She didn't finish the sentence and instead closed her eyes. The continuous use of the FTL drives was tiresome for the ships as well, sooner or later one was bound to give up. And the thought of leaving people behind again was terrifying.

"At least the Cylons coming every thirty minutes means the press hasn't had time to reorganize after the attacks." Billy shot a small grin at his boss and Val giggled at the side effect, Laura drawing half a smile as she took her glasses off and rubbed her temples wearily.

"Lords help us all when they do. Explaining that the president and the commander have two children together and are still in their positions should take some doing," Laura mused.

"So don't let them argue." It was Val who replied, raising from her seat and taking a step towards them to lower her voice. "Release a statement explaining yours and Dad's situation instead of holding a press conference. I highly doubt anyone would disagree now."

"She has a point, ma'am," Billy conceded. Val felt a wave of heat rushing to her cheeks by his endorsement, which he failed to notice entirely. "Who else would volunteer for this?"

"No one. No one in their right minds anyway." She sighed, and the three of them paused at her words to glance over at Gaius Baltar who was curled into one of the passenger seats, his eyes darting to the empty seat beside him nervously.

When Laura and Billy looked back at each other, she rolled her eyes and he chuckled under his breath as both of them stared down at the expecting paperwork. Barely two seconds had passed when Billy cleared his throat. "Madam President, update on the head count." He spoke with dread as he held the piece of paper for her to take it, enough proof that the printed number on it wouldn't please her.

"That's my cue," Val mumbled, leaving them to go through the documents —which were practically a ritual by now— without further distractions. As she walked to an empty seat, however, Baltar caught her eye again and she approached him carefully, slouching as she reached him. "Doctor Baltar?"

He turned to her alarmingly, and she wondered if he had been so lost in thought that she had somehow interrupted his continuous stare at the empty seat. But as soon as he focused his eyes on her, it was gone. "Y-yes?"

"Are you okay, Doctor?" she asked. The man appeared to be in the same bad shape as anybody else since the Cylons' relentless attacks despite dozing off in fits, and even when she observed him sleeping, he would seem restless. But he was a valuable asset, as his intellect was their best bet at finding a permanent solution for the Cylon thread, when— _if_ they managed to escape. "Do you need anything?"

A blond woman leaned towards him from the adjacent seat. "Do you want children, Gaius?" she asked, tilting her head as she spoke and toying with his hair.

"What? No—" He glanced briefly at his side before acknowledging the redhead again. "I mean yes, I'm fine. I appreciate the gesture, miss..."

"Vallaria," she reminded him. "Everyone calls me Val, though."

"Procreation is one of God's commandments," the Cylon pointed out. Evaluating the girl from head to toe, she smirked. "Wouldn't she be a fine candidate to carry them?"

Baltar straightened, suddenly interested in the idea. Not regarding children, of course, but Six was right in calling Val attractive; it would be a waste for him not to give it a try.

"That is a... beautiful name, Valerie,'" he assured her.

"Vallaria," she corrected him. "Like the main character in _The Mirror's Shadow_? My parents read that book when they were dating, so when I was born..." She shrugged. "But really, everyone calls me Val."

"Of course, my apologies. Vallaria. I mean, Val. Your name is as unusual as its owner is beautiful." She flashed a polite smile towards him at the compliment.

Six's eyes darkened, turning her expression into a mischievous smile. "I'm sure the president and the commander will be _ecstatic_ to welcome you into the family." To Val's surprise, Baltar's face became paler and his look widened abruptly. "Be careful, Gaius... I want _us_ to have a child," the Cylon warned, suddenly not pleased at how easily he had taken the bait.

Val stared at him for a while. _He_ was supposed to be their salvation? _Frakking nutcase_. She chose to attribute it to the lack of sleep, however, knowing that everyone dealt with it differently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, yes! Thank you for your concern, Miss Adama. There's nothing to worry about." He waved his hand dismissively, trying to sound as reassuring as possible; the girl was pretty enough, just like her mother, but none of them were worth it. If they managed to escape from the Cylons, Gaius wasn't stupid enough to elicit the rage of the people in power when there were other pretty women around— basic survival instinct.

"Okay. Well, if you need any—"

"What was that?" he asked, hanging his head around the corner of his seat and looking at Billy. His red-rimmed eyes stared back at the empty seat as his hand clutched the armrest beside him, and then at Val before jumping out of his seat and walking slowly towards the desk. "So sorry for interrupting you— and you, as well," he added, glancing briefly back at her, "while you were speaking— you were just saying?" His hand moved restlessly, down his pants, tugging at his sleeve and pulling his jacket closed, as if he could not stop and be still.

"I was saying that a Doctor Amarak had requested to speak with the President," Billy answered cautiously, eyeing Baltar with a mixture of fear and pity. The man was odd —very charming, of course— always polite and personable, but undoubtedly the destruction of the colonies and their subsequent escape had been too much for him.

"Doctor Amarak, I see." Baltar attempted to flash a smile at Laura, but failed to keep it on his face.

"You know him," Laura stated, her arms still folded across her chest as she waited for the man to process her question and reply, something that seemed to take him a startling amount of time.

"Yes!" He spoke over his shoulder at last, before looking back at her and repeating himself. "Yes. I used to work with him at the Ministry of Defense." She stared at him for a beat longer, smiling uncomfortably at his weird demeanor before Billy broke the tension by speaking up.

"It says here that he's uncovered important information, regarding how the Cylons were able to defeat Colonial defenses." Baltar seemed to grow even more agitated at the aide's words, nodding as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Val raised her eyebrows and moved to her mother's side with curiosity.

"Were you...? Going to speak to him? Perhaps I should speak to him if you're busy—" He glanced from Billy to Laura and back again rapidly, and she shook her head and held up a hand, opening her mouth to protest.

"Actually..." Billy answered first. "I think he wanted to speak directly with the President. Uh, sounded urgent."

"Must be very, very important." Six eyed him with what appeared to be real concern over his cover, leaving her teasing aside for the moment. "Maybe something about a certain traitor in the president's inner circle?"

Laura observed Baltar for a moment as he touched his throat nervously and glanced around, as if close to tears. She shot a glance at Billy before speaking. "There's not enough time before we jump. I want him on board first thing during the next cycle." Billy nodded and scribbled a note, and she glanced up to see Baltar still there, staring vacantly into empty air. The man was frakking insane, really; Laura could only pity his inability to accept the destruction of the Colonies. "Oh, thank you, Doctor." She spoke softly and he gave her a nervous look, nodding repeatedly— in the same way a chicken did.

"If I can help." He nodded a few more times before turning on his heel and walking down the corridor and into the next compartment. She frowned after him and shook her head slightly, glancing down at Billy.

"He's a strange one, isn't he?" she mused aloud, looking down at Billy, who rolled his eyes.

" _Cuckoo_!" Billy sang and Laura nodded while Val let out a muffled snort of laughter.

"All right, we have to go through these reports. Honey, can you contact CIC and let the commander know about my meeting with Doctor Amarak?" She sat down again in front of the documents and raised her eyes to glance at Val. "Perhaps he'll want to be present too. If that's the case, find out if he can work it into his schedule; if not, we'll just have to give him a report on it."

::::::::::

"DC." Dee handed him another document as he and Tigh slowly walked down away from CIC. She had decided to deliver the reports like this now, following him around and shoving a pen into his hand as she exchanged one report for the next, giving only a brief acronym as to its origin as he checked them. There was no time for anything else. DC was Cottle's.

"Twelve more cases of nervous exhaustion, that makes sixty-one." He signed the report after barely more than a glance, handing it back to Dee as he spoke. "Have the doc start pumpin' them up with stimulants," he ordered, glancing at his XO as he walked with his hand extended behind him, awaiting the next report. "And get them back on the line. Pilots too."

"Fuel report," Dee delivered.

"One out of every three, every other cycle." Tigh gave him an eye roll followed by a soft snort.

"That's gonna come back to bite us in the ass," he pointed out, and Bill shrugged at his words.

"Yeah, well, we have too much work and not enough people to do it." They would have to start recruiting civilians eventually— but who knew when they would have the time to even seek out possible candidates within the fleet.

"Fuel report." Dee spoke again, barely keeping up and absolutely exhausted, placing the next paper into his hand as Bill frowned.

"I already signed one of these." He handed it back to her and she paused, staring blankly for a moment before shaking her head.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Comm traffic, from the president." Bill stared down at the report in his hand for a moment, his thoughts briefly traveling to Laura as his movement came to a halt. "Miss Lynch called too," Dee kept talking, this time with a minor awkwardness in her tone. "She wanted to know the next time you'd be free, sir."

"Right. Is this my ten minutes or yours?" he asked Tigh, who shook his head immediately.

"Yours. I took ten last time."

"I'll see you guys in Combat." Saul's hand clapped his shoulder for a moment and Bill turned down the corridor, reading over the messages from Laura's office as he walked to the quarters that were Carolanne's now. She had been adamant on seeing him— contacting Dee every other cycle— asking for Bill. He was once again due to visit her, as had been for the past... several hundred jumps.

In the end, he was four feet away from her quarters when the report he read made him stop completely. An unknown scientist requested an audience with the president— to inform her about the fall of the Colonies. Something about his urgency didn't sit right with Bill; why couldn't this Doctor Amarak wait until the fleet had a break from the Cylons? Could this information help with their current situation? Whatever the case, he would feel more comfortable if the meeting took place aboard _Galactica_. He had already caved on not having _Colonial One_ docked inside the battlestar's landing bay, even when it was probably the safest option for Laura and Val's ship, since every inch of space was needed for combat landings as a result of having a single one working. He would rather have the meeting on his terms, just in case.

He knocked on the hatch anyway, and soon enough felt Carolanne's arms around him. "Took you long enough to come." She spoke softly despite her chiding as she moved closer for a kiss.

Bill met her lips and closed his eyes for a while, falling into the distraction willingly. But the report from the presidential spacecraft came back into his mind and he sighed, shooting her an apologetic look as they separated. "I can't stay," he said.

"What?! Bill, you just got here!"

"Something came up." She arched a brow accusingly, but Bill would be the first to admit that stuff kept _coming up_ each cycle. "That's just how it is, Anne. I'll see you in about an hour," he promised, even when he felt that lately— an hour seemed to last a day, as every second ticked loudly on the clocks around the ship.

"If the Cylons don't get us before that," she retorted. "Try to get some rest, Bill. You're no use to anyone if you can't stay awake. Let the young ones do the heavy lifting for a cycle or two."

Bill let out a weary chuckle and shook his head slightly. It had to be him. He had to lead his men, give example. "I'll see you in an hour," he repeated as he reeled her in for another kiss, her hand reaching his neck to hold him close in response. His lips moved lazily over hers, one more clue of his tired state, and Carolanne's heart ached for him. He shouldn't have the burden of fifty thousand lives on him, not in this state. She had no doubt Bill Adama was the best person for the job, but that didn't mean it was fair for him. "Get some sleep for me," he joked.

Cupping his cheek, Carolanne grinned despite the sadness in her eyes. "An hour. I'll hold you to that."

He nodded and closed his eyes at her touch instinctively; he knew his body was ready to give into the exhaustion and he needed to leave before he fell asleep on his feet. Reluctantly, Bill withdrew from her arms and gave Carolanne a last reassuring glance before retracing his steps up the passageway he had just came through.

::::::::::

Tigh's eyebrows could have reached the ceiling when he saw Bill walking back into CIC. "Your ten?" he asked simply and Bill shook his head as he reached his XO.

"Change of plans. Dee, get me the president." The young officer nodded, establishing the comm link swiftly. "Madam President. About this Amarak— I want to hear what he has to say." He spoke evenly, deciding not to mention his concerns for the time being.

"Good. Can you spare a Raptor, Commander? I understand your pilots are under enough stress as it is, so, I'm thinking maybe one of _Colonial One_ 's can fly it."

"There is a problem, though. Colonel Tigh gets his rest on the next cycle, I have to be in CIC," he continued. "Won't make it unless you bring him here."

Laura took her time to consider it carefully. Their working relationship hadn't been long —about six days, give or take— and she had already realized _Galactica_ was much more than just his ship— it was a bastion where her presidency sat diminished in favor of Commander Adama's power. If she agreed, there was a strong possibility he would be conducting the meeting instead of her. There was a reason why they barely had spoken to each other all these years... but they were back on the same side, Laura had to remember that. And she needed the information.

"Very well, I'll have _Colonial One_ docked after the next jump," she agreed. "Try to get some rest, Commander."

"You too, Madam President."


	13. The distance between you and me, part 2

All the credit to my beta Jules ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

 _Sometimes it is easier to see the light when you stand partly in the darkness._

::::::::::

Reports from the fleet usually took close to five minutes to get to her, and Laura had grown accustomed to waiting until the machinery in the cockpit printed the papers for Val to bring over. But this time, Val was late. Val was never late. Laura followed the hands on her watch as time went by, one second following another until two full minutes past her usual time, Val walked in with the reports, looking paler than ever.

Laura waited for the bad news, because surely she wouldn't look like this if she carried good news. "What is it?"

"A ship didn't make the jump." Val's words came as a broken whisper, and Billy held her arm when he noticed her faltering knees and eased her back into her usual spot. Laura took almost a full minute to grasp what she was saying as she moved over to her own chair and slid into it, the sentence echoing through her mind mercilessly.

"A ship? A whole ship— exactly— how?" It was a rhetorical question, really, but she had to ask it anyway.

"It could have been a comm error, or they got the wrong coordinates, or their FLT failed..." Val listed nervously, trying to fill in the silence with a stream of answers. When she got no reply from either, she continued, "They might have been destroyed before the jump."

Laura held up a hand to silence her daughter, slowly shaking her head. "We don't know though, do we? They could have been left behind, or someone could have made a mistake. But whatever the case, the people on _Galactica_ are beyond exhausted. It _could_ have been a mistake, but this is the Cylons doing." She took a deep breath then as she buried her fingertips on the armrests of her chair, holding on for the impending punch. "Which ship?"

"The _Olympic Carrier_ ," Val answered, dropping her sight to the sheets of paper she was carrying before placing them on the desk.

Billy anticipated the next question and searched for the ship name in the documents of the last head count. "1,345 souls aboard."

Her grip was completely lost when the air left her lungs and a sharp surge of pain crossed her head. Over a thousand people... her eyes darted over to the whiteboard and she pressed her fingers into her temples, as if trying to force the ache away. She stood in a slow, almost tentative movement, and turned towards the whiteboard. Billy had procured it from Gods know where, the previous number still there in her pristine handwriting, pitch black against the white surface. She could only stared at it— over a _thousand_ people to be subtracted— her body fell backwards and she leaned heavily on her desk.

"I'll do it," Billy offered, walking past her and she watched with tears in her eyes as her aide wiped the board clean and methodically drew the new population count, the marker squeaking uncomfortably with each trace. 47,973. Every number he wrote made her eyes burn, but she stood there stubbornly until he finished. He then turned back to her and they exchanged a quiet glance before he moved back and took his usual seat in front of her desk. She paused and blinked— before letting out a breath when she felt like the tears were no longer a threat.

"Okay, next crisis."

Billy sighed heavily behind her as he examined the new set of papers Val had brought with her. "Uh, list of calls."

"Yes." She nodded in agreement before a thought crossed her mind. "But first, where is the doctor that's supposed to be on board— what's his name?"

"Doctor Amarak," Billy answered, and she turned around to face him and nod.

"Yes." She let herself fall into her chair wearily and eyed him across the desk. "Yes, Doctor Amarak." Her words came out as a sigh as Billy went through his papers again. She shouldn't be sitting— sleep could claim her easily this way.

"Umh... He was on the _Olympic Carrier_ ," Billy answered slowly, and she sighed again. "I didn't realize, ma'am."

"Frak," Val snapped as she covered her face with a hand.

"Language," Laura scolded, earning a quick, albeit quiet apology from her daughter. "There is no need for us to dock on _Galactica_ , then. Go tell the pilots, please," she instructed, and Val left for the cockpit with a nod.

Sinking wearily into her chair, she exchanged a silent look with Billy and tears pooled back into her eyes. This brilliant young man didn't deserve to be in such a dire situation— she expected him to keep on working despite the sleep deprivation and the Cylon threat, and he did so without any complaint. The Gods had been extremely kind to send him to her at this stage of her life, as if she had some luck at the end of the world after all. She sniffed as she composed herself and placed her glasses back on her nose.

"It's all right," she assured him, softly, hoping her words would somehow lift part of the burden he was carrying. "On to the calls, okay?"

::::::::::

"Maybe this time."

Saul Tigh had repeated those same words aloud as they stood in CIC and watched the clock every cycle, every thirty-three minutes for the last five days. It hadn't been 'this time' yet. Nonetheless, he had said it every time as they waited— stared into the digital timer before the Cylons jumped in.

But _this time_ was different, apparently. The clock wound down and yet no Cylons showed up, but even nobody moved or dared to breathe; they all stared at the red and orange screen for a moment before Bill pulled himself out of the collective stupor. "DRADIS?" he asked Gaeta, not moving his gaze.

"No enemy contacts," the officer confirmed swiftly, speaking as if he couldn't believe it himself. The CIC crew shifted uneasily in their spots, all eyes on their CO as they waited for instructions. But Bill kept his own fixed on the clock, the collection of zeros blinking back without any answer whatsoever. Maybe this time...

"Keep the clock running," he commanded and the numbers changed at last, beginning a steady count up, just like the timer had counted down moments ago.

"What do you think?" Tigh wondered quietly next to him, the CIC bursting back into activity as if nothing happened— which was exactly the case. The irony that getting no contacts at all felt almost as unsettling as getting them was not lost on Bill.

"I think we wait," he said simply.

When the clock marked forty-five minutes, preceded by a plus sign, Bill closed his eyes and twisted his neck around. Most of the crew had finally dozed off in their seats, but they were still alive, and the tightness in his chest loosed slightly as he glanced across at Tigh.

"Get me the president," he told Dee, who moved in her station quickly to connect the call.

::::::::::

 _Colonial One_ had never been this quiet. Laura sat in her chair, unable to sleep— her hands folded on her lap as she stared ahead at a window on the farthest side of the room and waited. For word from _Galactica_. For a Cylon attack. For the familiar pull and tug of a jump. Anything.

She had no concept of day and night aboard the ship yet, as everything outside was always black, and the amount of time she had already spent continuously awake didn't help at all. But the civilians around her— all of them had taken this unprecedented break and fallen fast asleep. Even Billy, who had taken the cushioned seat Val usually sat on when she wasn't fetching reports, stood completely still despite the file opened on his lap. Her daughter slept some rows away, next to Wally, to whom she had been talking before the exhaustion had finally claimed them both.

So when the phone buzzed, softly but remarkably sharp in contrast to the silence of the room, she picked it up before it could disturb anyone. Some people stirred here and there, but none of them were permanently out of their sleep. "Yes?"

"Madam President, I have Commander Adama for you on the line," the pilot informed.

"Yes, put him through." There was a distant click and then a static filled silence before another click signaled the start of the call.

"Madam President." Bill's voice filled her ear in a soft mumble.

"Commander," she greeted him in return, fatigue leaking trough her voice. Two words— he had said two words alone, but his deep tone was enough to lull her close to sleep. So instead, she chose to focus on her watch, forcing her mind to remember the time of the last jump. "There have been no Cylons for... eighty minutes," she added, assuming that was the reason behind the call.

"Yeah. Forty-seven past the thirty-three mark," he confirmed.

"Why this time? Was it something that you did?"

"We had a new plan, but we didn't have time to implement it yet," he answered slowly and she nodded, though she was aware he couldn't see it.

"Well, we lost that ship during the last cycle, the _Olympic Carrier_. Did that have something to do with it?" The confusion was evident in her tone, just as much as her utter exhaustion— but they all were, and his sigh echoed hers. And her question was just as far-fetched— how could he know that?

"Possibly." Bill shared her suspicions but didn't mention anything else, and she barely heard his breathing through the line. She wanted to sleep so badly —Gods, she _needed it_ — but couldn't, not as long as the commander or her had no clue of what was going on. After a while, she realized he was still silent and she listened, trying to figure out if the line had gone dead.

"Are you there?" she asked softly, her hoarse voice a cruel reminder of the rest she wasn't getting, or the need of a glass of water at the very least.

The whisper that came through the receiver mixed up his insides, as the vulnerability and uncertainty in her tone were all but masked. What would he have given to have Laura in front of him and hold her in his arms, consequences be damned. Just to reassure her she wasn't alone in this and even if it meant getting scolded as a result.

But he told himself it was only the tiredness thinking, and settled for a small cough as he said, "Yeah. I'm here."

"What do we do now, Commander?" She spoke slowly, clutching the phone as if her whole conscious state depended on it. It was funny, really— how she didn't seem able to follow her own process of thought as she spoke to Bill, but felt painfully awake before the call. "I've got people on the verge over here." Her eyes located Val, and then Baltar— and Laura hoped Bill couldn't tell that she herself was included in that group.

"We're gonna go to Condition Two. We have to take advantage of this time, let our people get some rest," he finally answered, and she frowned into the phone. She had picked up military knowledge over the years, first from her ex-husband and later from Zak and Lee, but she had no frakking clue of what Condition Two _meant_. Was it a stand-by? Was there a Three? Or a Four? Would the crew from _Galactica_ get some rest, including the pilots?

"All right," she agreed before clearing her throat. "And how long do we, um, stay in Condition Two?"

"Until I'm satisfied they're not gonna return," he said sharply, and she jumped slightly in her chair. "It's a military decision." Laura felt a sudden flow of irritation washing over her and words coiled up in her throat, she could not believe he was already making use of the concession she had agreed to. He hadn't wasted any time, had he? But she remembered he had probably slept even _less_ than her, if that was even possible, and resisted the urge to reply something along the lines of ' _I never implied otherwise, idiot_ ' and ' _Why did you call me, then?_ '

"Yes, it is, I know that. You're right, and I defer to your decision. And Commander..." she began, pausing for a moment as if giving Bill enough time to cool down, or maybe because her own brain needed time to process the rest of her thought. "Let your men and women know how grateful I am for the job that they're doing." _Especially Lee_ , she wanted to add, rubbing the bridge of her nose instead. "Please, thank them for me."

"Thank you, Madam President," he answered at last, in a more even tone. "Thank you." His last words were softer, or maybe she was just imagining it as the line went dead.

"What did he say?" Billy asked behind her, making her jump in her seat and almost dropping the phone. She held it back just in time, mindful of the sound it could have produced by collapsing on top the desk when he slid into his usual seat. "Sorry, ma'am," he quickly apologized, and she shook her head tenderly.

" _Galactica_ will be on Condition Two for the time being. A stand-by, I suppose. Which means we rest." She sighed as she placed the phone down and rested her chin on her hand with her elbow on the table.

"Great. I can take a nap, two hours tops, and then start drafting the press release," he mumbled, efficient as ever. "And if we stay at Condition Two, I'll contact _Galactica_ 's doctor. Though you might want to tell the commander first?" he added tentatively and she suppressed a new sigh. He wasn't going to forget her promise, was he?

"Press release first," she agreed, casually ignoring the rest. As much as she dreaded telling the public about something for the press to chew on, anything was better than having _the cancer talk_ with Bill.

::::::::::

"Oh, a couple hour's rack time does sound awfully sweet right about now," Tigh muttered as he and Bill moved through CIC, coming to a halt pass Damage Control and near the exit hatch.

"You deserve it," Bill answered. The whole crew did, but he was aware of the extra work his XO had been doing, and yet he seemed to be in relative better shape than him. He was getting old after all, but Saul just kept going, so who was he to complain?

"You know, the truth is all this has me feeling more alive than I have in years."

"You look that way too," Bill observed, happy to notice that what obscured his gaze was the lack of sleep and not the shadow of alcohol. "It's good to see you without the cup in your hand."

"Aw, don't start," he mumbled in response.

"I know there's a whole lot of people aboard this ship that wish you weren't feeling as good as you are." Bill spoke in a joking tone, hoping to ease the tension brought up by his mention of Tigh's drinking habits.

"If the crew doesn't hate the XO, then he's not doin' his job." He shrugged. "Besides, got to make the Old Man look good," he teased in turn. Saul's joking expression was hard to read as his features barely changed at all, Bill had come to recognize it after years of friendship.

He straightened and replied with a tired smile, "I always look good."

Tigh snorted. "Did you look in a mirror?" Another _sober_ tease. He had something to thank the Cylons for, apparently.

The colonel moved through the hatch and Bill was about to follow him, but opted to speak first. "Seriously... it's one thing to push the crew, it's another to break them," he began, but the rest of his speech was swept under the rug as Gaeta shouted in their direction.

"DRADIS contact!" Alarms started beeping loudly through CIC, making Bill and Tigh strode back to the command table to glance up at the screen. "Bearing 348, carom 120, one ship. Getting recognition signal..." He waited for a beat, and Bill could swear his voice was completely different when he spoke again; relief mixed below his officer tone. "It's the _Olympic Carrier_ , sir!"

As he walked over to his usual position in CIC with Tigh behind him, he felt a sense of disquiet as he took in the news. They had been gone for almost an hour and a half, enough time for the Cylons to board the ship. And if that didn't happen, why come back now? _How_ had they evaded the Cylons? "Is that confirmed?"

"It's confirmed, sir," Dee responded with haste.

Tigh breathed beside him. "Thank the Gods."

He couldn't stop his eyes as they went from the DRADIS screen to stare at the timer, the sensation of dread increasing with each passing second. "Action stations," he commanded quickly, lowering his eyes to glance at Saul. The shock in his XO's face was clear as day, but he chose to ignore it anyway as he spun on his heel to face his officers over the Communications Center. "Put the fleet into Condition One. I want all Vipers manned and ready, but keep them in the tubes. Mr. Gaeta," he called next, while Tigh began the announcement to the rest of the ship.

"Sir?"

"Restart the clock: thirty-three minutes." Gaeta opened the clock, resetting it manually and then resetting the digital one as well. As the familiar numbers reappeared on screen, Bill caught Tigh glancing across at him as he monitored the new activity bursting from everywhere around them.

"I hope you're wrong."

"So do I. So do I," he murmured wearily, more to himself than his best friend, his words muffled by the klaxons wailing all over the ship.

::::::::::

Noises from _Galactica_ 's CIC poured from the speakers of _Colonial One_ as soon as the news had spread— the missing ship was back. Laura had been elated for an instant, only to realize that something didn't add up; Lieutenant Dualla calling and asking her to stay on the line was proof enough.

She couldn't hear Bill at the moment, but she understood his command when the young officer relayed the message over to the Raptor pilot. Nodding silently, Laura crossed her arms as she waited for the exchange between her —Boomer, she remembered her from the first hours after the attack— and what seemed to be the pilot of the _Olympic Carrier_. She was asking herself the same question, just how exactly had they escaped?

Yet the pilot offered no plausible explanation, freezing Laura to the spot. The Cylons wouldn't just turn away. And then he mentioned Amarak and she exchanged a look with Billy, suspecting it was only an excuse to change the subject.

"Madam President, I strongly recommend that we cut off all wireless communication with that ship right away," Baltar urged out of nowhere, closing the short distance between where he was sitting and her desk in a couple of strides. He spoke quickly, in his usual twitchy self that she had grown used to in the past days as he placed his hands on his hip tentatively, like he didn't know what to do with them.

She uncrossed her arms and stammered an incoherent answer, confused by his sudden interest on the matter. "What— why?" she blurted out without thinking.

"Forgive me for being rude, but— wake up all right?!" he yelled, striking the desk with his opened palm and making her jump in surprise. Val was immediately by her side, perhaps concerned with the possibility of Baltar turning violent, but Laura focused on the desperation in his voice and how it gained a higher pitch. He was a loon, but her instincts were having a bad feeling over the ship and he evidently agreed, which meant he could make sense at the moment. "The only reason the _Olympic Carrier_ is still flying is because the Cylons let them survive. They've been tracking that ship all along— there's probably a Cylon agent on board right now!"

"Calm down!" she instructed, raising her voice over Baltar's. "Start over."

"Please, Madam President— I implore you. Listen to me. Please cut off radio communication with that ship before they send, via broadcast signal, another computer virus to infect our ships shortly before they blow us all up." His voice seemed calmer, soothed by her own, but his demeanor remained as frantic as before.

She lowered her eyes to her phone and then exchanged a worried glance with Billy as she said, "Commander Adama, are you on the line?"

Silence greeted her over the speakers for a few seconds and she leaned over her desk, as if that somehow got her closer to Bill. There was a low hum of static for an instant, only to be replaced with the deep voice she knew well. "Yes, Madam President, and I'm inclined to agree with Doctor Baltar."

A rush of adrenaline washed over her as she nodded slowly, the implications of what Baltar had just said racing through her head. "Good, so do I," she concurred. The doctor seemed to calm down at last as he straightened and took a short breath across from her.

"Thank the Gods you were with us," Billy pointed out, but Baltar got slightly agitated by his words.

"God's got nothing to do with this," he mumbled. Laura stared at him intently until he noticed he had no reason for being there anymore and went down the corridor into the direction of the washrooms with certain reluctance, not without shooting a nervous look back at her again.

Laura sank into her seat and they listened to the comm traffic as Bill ordered his pilot to deliver a message by signal light, Dualla relaying it. Soon, the line was quiet again for enough time to worry her. Boomer didn't repeat an answer— because the _Olympic Carrier_ was not answering. "I'm getting a bad feeling about where this is headed."

"So am I," Bill responded softly, as if only for her to listen even when the speakers in the cabin delivered his voice. "If the ship poses a threat to us, we have to eliminate that threat." Closing her eyes, she felt her breath catch in her throat as she evaluated his statement. A ship of the fleet being considered as a threat was hard for her to process, let alone _eliminate_ it... "I suggest we evacuate the passengers and destroy the ship," Bill continued and she took a deep breath.

"That solves the problem if they're tracking the ship. What if they're tracking one of the passengers?" She spoke evenly, entwining her fingers and convincing herself that she was simply too tired to mind the lump that took hold of her throat. Laura knew exactly where her words were leading to.

Bill had no answer, and they waited again for the Raptor pilot to give an update on the situation. And when Dualla spoke, to let them know the efforts to raise the _Carrier_ again were unsuccessful and the ship refused to stop, Laura stared blankly ahead. If it didn't back down— would they be forced to shoot their own? Surely, it would stop.

"Order the fleet to execute jump 240. Get us between the fleet and that ship," Bill ordered and Laura felt her heart race. They wouldn't just—

An alarm began beeping over the speakers again, and _Colonial One_ needed nothing else to understand that the Cylons were back. Laura pursed her lips in quiet defeat; it must have been thirty-three minutes since the _Olympic Carrier_ had jumped.

"Radiological alarm!" Dualla's voice was high, and everyone around Laura turned to her in shock. She waited for someone on _Galactica_ to speak again, leaning slightly against the desk, her whole body tense. "It's the Olympic Carrier, sir, they've got nukes on board."

Laura opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ , but Bill's voice flooded the speakers first. "Madam President, we have to eliminate the _Olympic Carrier_ immediately," he said urgently, and she felt the blood pounding through her skull in a steady rhythm.

"There are 1,300 people on that ship," she protested weakly, trying to ignore the lack of alternatives.

"We don't know that— the Cylons may have captured them already." He spoke in a strict tone. "Look, at this point there's no choice. It's either them or us." His words made sense, she knew, and her hands shook as she tried to steady them by pressing them against the desk. She didn't need to turn around to see the damn whiteboard number in front of her, or the amount of ships jumping outside the windows, or the image of a little girl clutching a doll, whose parents would never be back.

That raised another though in her head, and she focused her sight on the floor as she asked, "Who's on patrol? Who's with Lieutenant Valerii?"

Bill exhaled close to his receiver, giving her the answer she dreaded most before speaking. "Starbuck..." he began, fully aware she wouldn't recognize the call sign and it didn't matter, "and Apollo."

 _I won't order my own son to kill civilians_ , she wanted to yell. _You can't expect me to_. Her conversation with Lee before the ceremony replayed in her mind, muffling Bill's insistent voice. Everyone else aboard _Colonial One_ was silent, and she could feel their eyes on her— the weight of their expectations. They expected her to falter. Bill expected it too— no. _Frak_. She blinked and her eyes gained a steely gaze.

 _I'm sorry, Lee._ "Do it."

She stayed on the line as Bill gave the order and Dualla relayed it, instructing to cut off the speakers only until her ship's jump; she had given the order, it was only fitting she heard the consequences. She could picture Lee's face in front of an exploding vessel in the meantime, and prayed to the Gods for her eldest to find a way to forgive her.

::::::::::

Over forty minutes passed after the fleet's last jump, making Bill confident that the Cylons had lost their means of tracking them at last. He dismissed most of his crew into their bunks, running _Galactica_ with only a skeleton crew until his men were fully rested, including Tigh. He had accepted nothing less than his XO getting the first hours of sleep.

Then more time passed by, almost twenty hours without Cylons. The battlestar returned to its usual schedule and Bill was back into CIC after six hours in his cabin, having even taken a shower and shaved again. Life aboard the ship was slowly falling into place, with a rag-tag fleet of sixty-two more vessels counting on them to protect them. And guiding them to a new home, wherever it was.

Satisfied that he wasn't needed at the moment, Bill decided to leave for several minutes to check on Lee. Laura's instinct previous to the destruction of the _Olympic Carrier_ wasn't wrong at all, and he felt the need to reassure his son that pulling the trigger had been an imperative. Therefore, he shot a glance at Tigh and nodded slightly. "Colonel Tigh, you have the con."

"Sir." He saluted, and Bill strode purposefully to the hatch after mirroring the gesture.

"Commander," Dee followed after him, catching him near the hatch. "Message from _Colonial One_ , sir." The officer handed over an official-looking document and went back to her post quickly, making him arch a brow with interest. They usually waited for him to read the paper and give his instructions.

Eyeing the length of the printed text, Bill decided to read it on his way to the ready room instead. The document had the words ' _Press release_ ' on the title, as well as the colonial seal just before it. He had no doubt it had been sent to every ship in the fleet now that the government was back in action.

What he didn't expect was the _information_ it held— a brief explanation of President Roslin's marriage to one William Adama, who also happened to be the commanding officer of the battlestar _Galactica_. It had dates —the wedding, twenty-seven years ago, and the divorce, seventeen years ago— as well as Lee's and Val's names, and Bill felt a pulse of disgust flowing through his veins at the clinical way the document described such an important part of his personal life. He knew politicians had to inevitably expose themselves to the public, but he hated to be caught in between.

Worst of all, the official document finalized with the assurance that given the amount of time passed since their break-up, their jobs wouldn't be compromised by their past and so, President Roslin felt no need to ask for Commander Adama's resignation. She trusted the military's sense of professionalism, shrewdly implying that there were not enough options left to replace him in any case.

Bill stopped in the middle of the passageway as he finished reading and rolled his eyes. _His_ resignation? He had over four decades worth of military career, while his ex-wife had been a _teacher_ for most of her life, save for Adar's intrusion in her career about thirteen years ago. If their history rendered them incapable of working together, it was obvious to him that _she_ was the one who needed to resign.

When his anger subsided, he resumed his walk as he proceeded to crumple the paper into a ball and place it inside his uniform pocket to throw it away later; recycling be damned. Besides he would probably want to read it again after talking to Lee, even against his better judgement, as if he needed to reassure himself of the document's existence.

It felt surreal to Bill, but apparently Laura had become a real politician after all.

::::::::::

Sometimes she wondered if any other president would be remembered the way she would be. She hadn't wanted to be remembered at all, really— as a mother, perhaps. As a friend, a teacher, maybe even a grandmother if the Gods blessed her. But she had never imagined she would be remembered as a president. A president who in the first week of her term had given orders that led to the death of her people not once, but twice.

 _Twice._

She sighed in contemplation as her eyes covered the room that had become her office. It was empty now, very much like herself— she felt an emptiness inside her body, as if a piece of her soul had been eroded away along with the thousands she had guided to their deaths.

At least it distracted her from the cancer. It had been almost twenty-four hours since they had shot down one of their own and jumped away from the Cylons, and she had managed her time to the extreme; she had slept, eaten and then tackled the incredible amount of reports, agendas and concerns that her desk had held for the past five days. Billy had even forgotten about the doctor's appointment he had promised her, to Laura's delight. She was well aware that would not be the case for long, but it still felt like a little victory to her in an ocean of captains' reports.

As she took another document, she realized she had been in her office, in her chair, for more consecutive hours than she cared to admit, but it had to be done. She hadn't slept again after a seven-hour slumber, and neither had Billy— both of them had been existing on _Colonial One_ 's coffee supply ever since then. And if she had to admit it, it wasn't that good. The coffee machine at her apartment... she already missed it.

Everything had changed, really. Down to the frakking coffee, and even so that wasn't what she cared about at all: 1,300 people was a big percentage when the entire civilization consisted of less than fifty thousand human beings. She saw countless faceless people every time she closed her eyes, and yet— twenty-four hours without Cylons. It had been the right choice, the _only_ choice, but knowing it and coming to terms with it were two different things. And then Lee would join the blank faces, his features twisted in horror and rage directed at her. So yes, she could live with the less-than-good coffee if that meant not requiring sleep anytime soon.

Sitting up, she searched for a blank piece of paper in her desk. She pulled it closer with shaking hands, tearing off a corner at the bottom and writing the ship's name on it as steady as she could. Her handwriting stared back for a beat before Laura tucked it into her pocket, keeping her hand over the jacket's fabric until she felt strong enough to let go. She had to move on, but she wouldn't forget.

Her eyes darted to the whiteboard, and she stared at the number without blinking; she could recite it from memory by now. Interlacing her fingers across her stomach, she thought about the people currently aboard the remaining ships, the people represented by that number. She was protecting them, or so she hoped.

"Madam President." Billy walked through the curtain but she didn't tear her eyes from the whiteboard, her hands still firmly pressed against each other. "Madam President?"

"I'm sorry, you were saying something?" She turned towards Billy, who didn't correct her on how he hadn't technically said anything yet. He remained by the doorway, a single sheet of paper in his hand.

"Twenty-four hours, no Cylons. At least you know it was the right choice," he said quietly. He was trying to help her, she knew, trying to make her see they were all aware it had been the only option available. He was a sweet young man, undoubtedly— but sometimes the right choices could feel worse than the wrong ones, and he was just starting to learn that.

"The right choice?" She mumbled his words back to him and nodded, turning her sight once again to the whiteboard. Billy was a blessing from the Gods, but she wasn't in the right state of mind to fully appreciate his efforts. So when she realized he was still there, she stared at him and added, "I'm sorry, Billy, I think I'd like some time alone, please."

"Of course." Backing away and nodding immediately, he paused as he took a step to the curtain and spun to face her again, causing Laura to look up with a soft sigh.

"What is it?"

"Update on the head count." Billy slightly raised the piece of paper he held and she felt her stomach sink in anticipation. _Not this again_.

"Subtract how many?" she asked in a resigned tone, before noticing the glint in his eyes.

"Actually, you can add one." A smile appeared on his face as he delivered the news. "A baby was born this morning on the _Rising Star_. A boy."

"A baby?" She breathed the words as her mind caught up and Billy nodded. In the midst of running for their lives— jumping every thirty-three minutes, a small child had been brought into a world that desperately needed more children.

"Yup." He flashed her a full grin, evidently pleased with coming up to her office to inform her of something good for a change. She nodded in his direction.

"Thank you." He nodded again before disappearing from view, and she stood and moved over to the whiteboard, erasing the last number there to replace it with the new total as a smile grew slowly across her face.

 _47,974_.

Every soul counted.


	14. The distance between you and me, part 3

I'm sorry for the delay! Writer's block punched me on the face halfway through the chapter. Right in time for NaNoWriMo, of all things.

Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me, and to my beautiful beta Jules for her insights.

Enjoy!

* * *

 _Everybody's playing the game, but nobody's rules are the same._

::::::::::

"I... can't stop thinking about the _Olympic Carrier_ ," Lee informed him as they walked down the corridor on their way to the landing bay.

"That was three days ago, it's ancient history under these circumstances." But he had to admit that sometimes, it seemed like only yesterday. Getting a full night's sleep, proper meals, three whole days without enemy contact— those were commodities Bill was happy to have back. Most of his crew had never seen them as such, making them feel a sense of surrealism that only war brought, and his experience told him it would take them a while to get used to it. He glanced at Lee before speaking again. "Leave the second-guessing to the historians. I'm sure Val will rally them." His attempted joke was not received well as his son came to a halt and looked at him.

"But don't we have a responsibility?" he questioned, and Bill was pained to see the guilt painted all over his face. He shouldn't feel like that... that was for Laura and him alone. They had given the order, not Lee. "I mean as, as leaders don't we have an obligation to question our actions, to... I don't know, to make sure the decisions we make are the right decisions?" He spoke slowly, as if he doubted his own words; there was also a glint of hope in his eyes, expecting a reassurance that would somehow make his remorse disappear. Suddenly Lee seemed like a little kid again, looking up to his dad for answers, and it made Bill's heart ache. He didn't have any.

"We did what we had to do, son. A man takes responsibility for his actions, right or wrong," he murmured. Taking the _Carrier_ down had been the only choice, he knew that. And he needed Lee to understand it too. "He accepts the consequences and lives with them. Everyday." Lee's eyes shadowed in disappointment, Bill realized. He took a deep breath and gave his son's shoulder a gentle squeeze that didn't help as much as he wanted to and he took a mental note to mention it to Laura later. She had a better relationship with their kids, she should have something more useful to say to him.

"This piece of crap!" Tigh's sharp, loud voice interrupted them as the colonel appeared in the adjacent corridor. Glancing down at the leather sash in his hands, the senior officer joined them as both Adamas resumed their walk to the landing bay. By the looks of it, he wasn't having any joy with his wardrobe variant.

"You're in a good mood," Bill pointed out, slightly amused. He knew he shouldn't feel grateful for the distraction, but he was.

"I feel like crap," Tigh murmured, and Bill wondered if he was drunk. Wouldn't be the first time, given that he wasn't happy about the president's reception. But he showed none of the tell-tale signs of disguised inebriation when he shoved his gloves into Bill's hands; he could be rationing his reserves. Maybe. "Hold that," he asked, though it didn't sound like a question at all. Tigh then threw the sash over his head to place it along his left shoulder, his wings and decorations glinting under the passageway light, and glanced briefly at Lee. "She doesn't expect us to do this every time she comes aboard, does she?" As irreverent as he was, Tigh knew better than to complain in even worse terms in front of him.

Bill played with the gloves, not willing to meet the colonel's eyes as he said, "This was my idea."

"You?" Tigh snapped, and Lee looked at him with interest as well. "You hate this kind of thing."

"Start treating her like a president, she may start feeling like one. Since we have to work together, the better she feels, the easier she'll be for us." His voice lacked a real inflection as he gave Tigh his gloves back, waiting for Lee's retort on his plan. To his surprise, he didn't get any. "We're gonna be late," Bill added instead, and they quickened their pace to meet the entourage from _Colonial One_.

::::::::::

"Please don't tell me we have to go through this every time I step on that ship," she groaned as she put on her jacket. Laura had been aboard _Galactica_ almost half a dozen times since the attacks and she had never gone through this fanfare— couldn't they just keep going like that?

"No, ma'am, but they will always render honors for your arrival; it's protocol." He flashed her an apologetic smile, as if he had any control over the matter. It was sweet, really, that Billy was always worried about her.

"The military, they do love their protocol." She was keenly aware of that. Her ex-husband usually didn't care for it, but now that he was all that remained of the Fleet, she assumed his nostalgia was louder.

"I'm sure that if the commander knew you didn't like it, they'd be willing to—"

She shook her head immediately. Bill already _knew_ she didn't like it, she was half convinced he was putting her through this because of it; it certainly wasn't for his own sake. "No, let him sound the trumpets. It makes him feel more comfortable, to show off his ship. And if he feels more comfortable, he'll be a little easier to deal with." _Maybe even forget the president is 'just a schoolteacher'_ , she added in her mind. The other half of her knew what he hated the most was having to deal with a person filling the position by chance, in deep contrast with the military's lifelong careers. She was unpredictable, in a way. An uncertainty. Bill didn't like uncertainties.

"That's smart," Billy pointed out, clearly surprised. She had come to accept his innocence as a downside for his extreme efficiency and flashed him a motherly smile, the same one she used back when she taught little kids in her classroom.

"No, it's not smart. It's politics." She spoke quickly as she finished dressing and checked her reflection on the window. Her elected attire was a navy suit, the dark color remarkably similar to the soldiers' uniforms. It was no coincidence. Laura knew that the less her clothes stood out, the more familiar she seemed, the less threatening she would be to Bill. She had been a little reckless on purpose with her lavender skirt during the decommissioning, when she had nothing to lose; it was different now. Not that she had many options to choose from. "I think I'm going to get tired of this outfit, seeing as I only have three for the rest of my life."

A faint blush creeped across Billy's neck. "Looks fine," he assured her, his voice betraying him when it wavered.

She halted her movement and glanced at him, an amused smirk dancing on her lips. "Fine?"

"Uhm, it looks... great." He tried to amend it, as uncomfortable as he could only be and Laura snorted. Such a sweet boy.

She couldn't help but draw a parallel between Billy and Zak, back when he was a teenager, slowly and awkwardly learning under his brother's shadow. He had always fancied the same type of girls as Lee —making it seem like he was copying him, as with many other shared interests between them—, until he had flown with his own wings and met a particular classmate at flight school. She knew the girl was special just by listening to her son when he talked about her, which made it all the more sad that Laura had never met her.

"You don't know anything about women, do you?" she asked, and her eyes flickered to the end of the room that served as her office— to Val, who was organizing a set of documents to take with her to _Galactica_. Laura wasn't as blind as Billy was, her daughter blushing almost every time Billy spoke to her was usual to her now. And she could only hope— he would be a wonderful addition to the family.

"Shall we?" he said instead, choosing not to reply to her teasing; mostly because he had no idea of what else to say.

Nodding, Laura decided to let him off the hook. "Let's go be presidential."

She moved first, Billy and Val closing the retinue behind her. A couple of marines joined them when they stepped out of _Colonial One_ and into the battlestar's landing bay, all of which was familiar to her now, until— she went down the set of stairs and Commander Adama awaited there, along Colonel Tigh and with a group of officers positioned at both sides of the corridor carrying ceremonial rifles. For a second, she could have mistaken them for trumpets.

Bill saluted her in his practised fashion, and she mirrored the gesture as best as she could. "Madam President, it's a pleasure to welcome you aboard the battlestar _Galactica_ ," he said.

"Thank you, Commander. The pleasure is all mine." Flashing a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes, Laura followed him to the CIC, thinking he had only stopped short of _actual trumpets_ for her arrival, for frak's sake. She had only been joking earlier. The military had rendered honors to Richard on several events she had accompanied him to, but those had been different; granted, _this_ was different as well. She hadn't been on official business aboard a battlestar before _Galactica_ , but still... just how much did she know about the Fleet after all? Maybe not as much as she originally thought.

Or maybe, as she was inclined to believe, William Adama was putting up all of this just because it was _her_.

::::::::::

With the water replenishing exercise about to begin, Bill excused himself from Laura's side and joined Tigh over the Communications Center to supervise the procedure. His dress greys itched as he straightened, his body missing the usual uniform already even when he showed no signs of discomfort on his face. It had been his idea, after all.

"How is it going?" Tigh asked quietly, looking at Laura from behind as Lee walked to her.

Bill sighed. He'd never been fond of protocol, even less when the receiving end included a president like Richard Adar, but at least Laura was more deserving of this gesture than him. For what it was worth, Bill had accepted her role in the government... as long as she didn't interfere with the military. "I feel like..."

"A tour guide?" Tigh provided in unison with his own voice. Both men exchanged a glance and chuckled before Saul spoke again. "The _schoolteacher_ likes it that way, doesn't she? Another part of her tour aboard the Old Girl; one big educational experience."

He didn't answer, settling instead for a silent stare at her and Lee. Following Zak's death two years earlier, Bill had received information about his son's well-being in several ways, given that the latter wouldn't return his calls whatsoever. The easiest had been the Fleet itself, with records of his current status as an officer and his assignments. Then, Val had helped too, as she thought Lee's grudge was absolutely ridiculous. But Laura's relationship with Lee had always been exemplary, much like his was a complete mess; and so she had reached out to him every time something noteworthy happened.

For instance, she had invited him to Lee's promotion party some months earlier, no doubt without his knowledge or approval.

He had declined.

Narrowing his eyes, he tried to make sense of the movement of their lips with no avail. Bill wasn't on a good spot to catch a coherent sentence, as he couldn't glimpse at her mouth behind her auburn mane easily. He was sure, however, that the conversation revolved around _him_.

And he was correct. Keeping her voice as low as possible, she threw a glance in Lee's direction and whispered, "I don't remember him ever enjoying this so much." She knew better than to mix family issues with work, but she couldn't help it. The disdain in her tone was plain as day, carefully masked under a professional smile only.

"He's not," Lee replied.

She crossed her arms, suppressing the desire to roll her eyes. "It's all right." It had to be, they had divided their respective duties and _Galactica_ certainly wasn't hers. She had the rest of the fleet to worry about. But she had to admit —if only to herself— that the situation didn't appear particularly sustainable today; could she keep up the tenuous balance, the commander's undermining of her presidency, until they found a new place to call home? Or rather, until her cancer took her?

Laura's eyes fell on Billy. Her aide was talking to a pretty young woman, dressed in a green uniform she couldn't really place, as it wasn't the same one Lee wore. By the looks of it, however, he stuttered more than talked, and the realization shone in her green eyes: perhaps this girl was the reason he hadn't figured out Val's feelings towards him. Her first instinct, as a mother, was to call him under a petty excuse, to force him to get away from his attractive officer. But she couldn't get herself involved, of course. That was Val's fight, and hers alone. Yet Laura wished the presence of her daughter there instead of letting her to assist a lunatic like Baltar; at best, she would realize her need to make a move soon, at worst, she would avoid a bigger heartbreak.

"Madam President?" Lee called her, and by the sound of his words, it wasn't the first time. She turned her neck to face him, as if she had been lost in thought. "If I may, this gesture is for you."

"I know," she assured him, because _of course_ she knew. Her eyes looked straight ahead once again, somewhere over the command table in the middle of CIC, not willing to continue with that topic. As mad as she was with Bill, she didn't want to poison Lee's already bad opinion of him.

But Lee spoke again. "What I mean is, he's trying to make you feel like the president." He gave her time to process his words as he arched a brow and gave her a half smile, moving slightly closer to her. "Mom, this is for you," he repeated, this time lower.

Not knowing what to say, Laura examined Lee's features, just to make sure he meant it. He did, of course. And so, her mind worked fast as she reevaluated her earlier assumptions; she had been wrong in believing he wanted to undermine her again. He had agreed to work with her after fleeing Ragnar, hadn't he? Bill wasn't a bad person, he had loved her more than she was willing to remember. And above all, Bill Adama was an honorable man. She could trust that. "Thank you," she finally whispered, and Lee nodded in acknowledgment.

She turned around to find Bill still focused on his task. Glancing him up and down, from his face and down to his boots, Laura evaluated the stern figure in front of her. The grey uniform didn't look as good on him as the blue one, she noticed, as the navy fabric made the other tone of blue, in his eyes, even shinier. Those eyes... even behind glasses, Bill's eyes stood out with ease.

Her thoughts drifted off before she realized it, but were shut down quickly by a sudden movement of their surroundings and a loud noise. Laura braced herself against the half-wall behind her and Lee towered near her, ready to protect her if needed.

"Decompression alarm!" Gaeta shouted as the officers around CIC sprang into action, as well practiced as expected. Bill and Tigh strode to Damage Control and Laura followed, stopping a few steps behind.

Bill hastily asked for a report and Gaeta provided it, forcing him to veer the ship to keep the hull from getting further damage. The worst part, however, was that the measure couldn't prevent the water tanks from giving out. "Every tank in the port site has ruptured," Tigh confirmed as he read the screen. "We're venting all our water directly into space."

Bill grimaced. "As if this day wasn't interesting _enough_."

::::::::::

Little less than an hour later, a meeting was called to evaluate the damage sustained by the battlestar and the repercussions the lack of water would have on several other ships. Key crew members had been summoned besides the commanding and executive officers, along with the president, since civilians were affected as well, and Laura had insisted on bringing Baltar too in order to hear the report he was going to give before the accident. She knew Bill didn't look forward to having the crazy genius with them, but he understood his value. And there was a plus side that drowned whatever complaint he could have: if he came, Val would have to tag along.

Therefore, Gaeta was the first to give a report, and after him Tigh went over their long range survey findings for possible planets with water, his voice grumpy, but even as he spoke. Bill immediately requested a squadron of Raptors to each of the five possible locations, and Lee carried it quickly; this gathering made Laura feel like she was seeing a well-oiled machine. _Galactica_ had proven to be one after all, but she was pleasantly surprised to know that, for all her son's talk about wanting to stay as away from the commander as he could, he took his orders without question. And he seemed comfortable doing so, too.

It was a small mercy for the peril the fleet found itself in. And so, with the task at hand, she asked, "Colonel, how likely are we to find water on any of these planets?"

"Now you want me to guess, I take it?" he bluntly replied, wearier of her than usual due to the way she had _interrogated_ Gaeta before. She smiled shrewdly as she narrowed her eyes, half amused by his attitude. Saul Tigh had never forgiven her for her decision to end her relationship with Bill, as if he had any right to be mad at her in the first place; in any case, she admired the man's unwavering loyalty to his best friend.

"Colonel," Bill warned next to her, his eyes down on the paper he'd been writing on as if trying to stay out of their specific unfriendly exchange. Like he wasn't related to it at all.

There was a lingering silence in the room and for a second, Laura wondered if Tigh would choose not to back down before he emitted a quiet, "Sir." He then lowered his eyes and she could almost _see_ the gears turning inside his head, creating his thoughts, until he looked at her again with a fire back in his gaze. "Well, my apologies to Madam President; difficult day for everyone," he murmured, a full flood of sarcasm inside his tone.

She nodded and her smile became a soft grin. "I understand." She wouldn't take his bait. For now.

"Most planets are just hunks of rock or balls of gas, the galaxy is a pretty barren and desolate place when you get right down to it," was all the explanation he offered.

"Thank you, Colonel," Bill interjected to close down matters; he wasn't going to allow a discussion like that for _his_ sake. He would need to speak to Saul later— remind him the president was to be respected always— and probably get a retort on how effortlessly she held his leash. Which wasn't _true_ , of course, she just happened to be their boss now...

"The water rationing will make our supply problem worse. Doctor Baltar, please show the results of your study," Laura instructed, not noticing the colonel's intent look on Bill as he moved to take his seat.

Baltar's eyes turned to her, focusing his gaze as he remembered he had not been there just to watch; the scientist quickly shuffled his papers in search for a unique document, or, perhaps, buying some time not to show he wasn't paying any attention to the meeting. Laura was learning that she could never know with the man.

It was Val, seated next to him, who handed him the paper he needed. The young woman had been assisting Baltar for the past days as he nailed down the consumption report, albeit reluctantly since she had never been good with numbers and Baltar wasn't the most entertaining company either. So he did as Laura asked and gave them a long list of food the fleet required— including a worrisome amount of water. Per week.

She let a tired sigh escape her lips as she considered just exactly how the odds stacked against them once again. They were lucky to have agricultural vessels amongst their ships, but _Galactica_ 's water supplies were absolutely needed in order to survive.

"Commander, Chief Tyrol reported back, sir," a marine stationed at the door informed, and Bill promptly ordered to let him in.

The deckhand was evidently distressed as he walked to the dais, clearing his throat when he faced them. Whatever him and his crew had discovered was even more disturbing that the loss of water. "Uhm, so far, we've found five discreet detonation points in the tank. And we believe there may be a sixth," he explained slowly, like he wanted to stall his report. As he kept talking, though, Laura realized his hesitancy was due to the crew's own oversights. "I've suspected, due to the size of the residual scoring and the burn points that we're dealing with a G4 type explosive. So I requested a spot check of all inventories from the master of arms, and she indicated to me that there are six detonators missing from the small arms locker in the port flight pod." He eyed Bill nervously. "So one detonator may still be unacquainted for."

"Have the master at arms post guards at all small arms lockers immediately," he ordered, almost as an instinctive response.

"It's already done, sir. She also is opening an investigation into who may have had access to that locker. However, due to, uhm..." Tyrol made a new pause, unsure how to admit the next bit. "Spotty record keeping and lack of internal security procedures since the attack, she believes that we may never know who took the detonators."

Bill stared at his chief for a while without blinking, as harsh as they were used to seeing him, until he finally leaned towards Laura. "You know what this means."

"Yes," she whispered back.

"I'll clear the room," he added, and she hummed in agreement. "Chief, thank you very much. Everyone except for Colonel Tigh, Captain Adama and Doctor Baltar are now released. Please remember this briefing is strictly confidential."

The rest of the officers and civilians took their leave, including the marines stationed at the door. Val stood from her chair and walked over to Billy's, where they both made their way to the exit. Bill left his seat as well, rubbing his face as he got to the central zone of the ward room; and Laura's gaze steeled as she focused on his movements.

"There's at least one Cylon aboard the _Galactica_."

Perhaps that was the reason why the fleet had no enemy contacts for three days.


	15. The distance between you and me, part 4

As always, thank you for your continued support! This time, the fleet dodges yet another crisis, and there's a conversation about books ;)

Also, the next chapter will be a special one. Stay tunned!

* * *

 _Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself._

::::::::::

Rather than complaining about her lack of clearance for the rest of the meeting, Val was relieved to leave the ward room; of all the miscellaneous stuff she had helped with aboard _Colonial One_ since the attacks, being Baltar's assistant was the one she had disliked the most. By a long stride.

"I didn't expect to have to deal with this much paperwork. Ever," she jokingly stated as they stopped short of the exit of the ward room. Billy grinned.

"You'll get used to it," he guaranteed. The amount of documents he reviewed and produced had increased substantially now that his boss was the president of humanity, but he was completely fine with it as he was more than satisfied with his chance of helping the government. He clutched the papers he held a little tighter as they began walking again, this time to _Colonial One_. The battlestar was still a war vessel, which made them more useful the less they got in the crew's way.

"I hope not," Val murmured, snorting. The small mercy was that at least now that the scientist had finished the consumption report, she was once again free to use her time elsewhere. Or so she hoped. Baltar was about to get a lab on _Galactica_ and she would be of no use there, science and numbers were not her strong suit. She would eventually find something else to do aboard the presidential ship.

They turned right by the next junction, following the same path they had taken from the landing bay to the ward room backwards. Or rather, Billy followed Val, as no matter where he went the aide still couldn't orient himself around the battlestar. Several officers passed by, most of them faces they had never seen before, nodding politely as they went on with their assigned duties. It amazed Billy— as a citizen of the Colonies, he knew the basics of military life, but seeing Dee and the others in action was entirely different.

"You never told me— what did you want to do before the attack? What was your plan?" he asked after a while. The passageway they were currently walking through finally felt familiar to him, making him believe they were near the landing bay now.

"The Delphi Museum of History." She didn't look at him, focusing on the way ahead with a sad smile on her lips. "I loved visiting it when I was little, hearing the story of how we left Kobol to find the Colonies and all that. So when I grew up, I realized I wanted to be part of their staff, maybe be in charge of it one day... or any other museum that would have me, I'm not picky. I also gave some thought to following the family tradition of teaching for a few years as well, but... maybe down the line." She fell silent of a sudden and lowered her eyes, focusing her gaze on the deck just in front of her feet. "Doesn't matter, anyway. The Colonies' history is lost now."

Billy pursed his lips into a thin line, trying to come up with the right words to say while he pressed the papers he held against his chest once again. In the end, he flashed her what he hoped would be a reassuring smile. "You'll find something you'd like to do in the fleet."

She forced herself not to blush as she nodded. "Anything is better than this," she said. When he didn't answer, she eyed him and added sheepishly, "Sorry. It's just... Baltar and all."

"It's okay."

Val opted to bail herself with a change of topic. "You know my story now, Billy Keikeya. It's time to hear yours," she murmured. Billy had been there for her and her mother since the attacks, but she hadn't had the opportunity to do the same for him since she knew virtually nothing about the man.

"Well... My first option was the Ministry of Commerce, but the position was unavailable when I applied," he admitted quietly, as if it was some sort of betrayal to his boss. "I had to look elsewhere. I'm glad President Roslin took me in."

"I see you like politics, huh?"

He nodded. "I want to make a difference; to help people have a better future. The government is supposed to do that."

He had a good, empathic heart, the right ideals and a wish to help his fellow citizens in any way he could. No wonder Laura Roslin cared so much about him already, Val thought as her stomach flipped pleasantly. _And she's not the only one_ , she reminded herself, feeling that her cheeks grew redder by the second.

"And you left your family on Picon to do that," she stated, trying to focus on the conversation before she said something potentially embarrassing.

"My sisters lived there," he confirmed. "So my parents moved there to be with their grandchildren. They had a dog too."

Val smiled fondly, picturing him petting a medium-sized, generic brown dog, and surrounded by a remarkably large family. "I wish I could have met them. They must have been so proud of you."

"Yeah, I think they were," he answered simply as they arrived to the landing bay, _Colonial One_ dwarfing everything around it as the ship occupied most of the space available.

::::::::::

As Laura arrived to the commander's quarters, the marines stationed outside informed her he wasn't inside yet. She went in anyway, taking a seat on the couch to wait as she assumed he had to be on his way.

But Bill took longer than she anticipated, and she grew bored. She got up after a few minutes of waiting to explore his chambers now that she had the chance, his impressive bookcase in particular. Walking slowly, she made her way to the dozens of titles it held; spotted some familiar books and took one out, caressing the cover before opening it. The third page greeted her with a message in her own handwriting.

 _I think you'll like this one. Happy birthday!_  
 _Love,_  
 _Laura._

She couldn't help but smile at it. Those were simpler times, before Bill got reinstated in the Fleet, before she chose to stay alone and raise her kids mostly on her own. And before her sisters and father died as well.

Laura placed the novel back in its place, trying to keep the memories at bay: Sandra had helped her pick that book. She recognized several other volumes from their shared collection a lifetime ago, while many others had come after Laura, along with some that were meant to replace the ones she had taken with her. The world collapsed on her and the precious cellulose that held her total attention, retracing the spines with her fingertips. Oblivious as she was, she didn't notice the sound of footsteps coming from the open hatch.

"Please excuse me for keeping you..." Bill said as he walked inside, stopping next to the bookcase when he realized what she was doing, a confused look on his face. At the unspoken question, she whipped her hand away quickly, as if the contact suddenly burned. "Waiting. I was called to the engine room," he finished a couple of seconds later.

"It's all right." She entwined her fingers in front of her, pretending as if nothing happened, her politician's smile plastered on her lips almost by instinct. "I was just looking at your books, your collection has grown admirably," she added. And, of course, casually ignoring _she_ was the reason it had been diminished in the first place.

Bill looked at her for a beat, then another, before he mirrored her smile. It was certainly similar to hers, as it didn't reach his eyes either. "I'll just take a moment." He walked away across his desk in the direction of the head.

She didn't answer, closing her eyes instead and mentally scolding herself for... whatever. Everything, maybe. Dealing with Bill wasn't easy, not when they were supposed to work so closely now. But she chose to ignore what had just happened as she opened her eyes and walked away from the bookcase, even when her gaze was still enthralled by it. So many novels, when her own were lost...

"Would you mind if I borrow a book or two?" she asked without thinking, even though she knew the answer before she spoke. But she had to give it a try. It was only a matter of time until she grew desperate with nothing new to read, so perhaps the now usual workload would be a welcome distraction before too long. "I... only brought one with me on the flight to _Galactica_."

Laura began to wonder if he hadn't heard her when his answer came from across the room. "Which book?"

" _Murder on Picon_ ," she admitted, and she could have sworn Bill emitted a low chuckle, probably amused by her predictable choice of genre. A mystery.

The commander emerged back a few seconds later, clasping his hands together as he made his way back. He came to a halt a few steps from her, the usual aura that made him seem taller than he actually was walking with him; anyone that wasn't Laura would have recoiled by now. His stern blue eyes pierced into her, unyielding. "I don't lend books," he reminded her.

"Yes, I know," she was quickly to acknowledge. "However... I was hoping you'd do an exception. This time," she said. He'd feel horribly withdrawn in her position as well, wouldn't he? Prevented from taking a peek at literature? That was her only hope.

"I don't make a habit of breaking my rules, Madam President." He walked past her and Laura forced her sight to the ceiling to prevent herself from saying something that she would later regret; the man was as obnoxiously stubborn as she recalled. She took a deep breath to calm down, and when she looked at him again, Bill was standing in front his bookcase. Narrowing her eyes, she followed his movement as he explored the shelves, as if looking for something.

Maybe he would agree if she kept the books inside his quarters? She discarded the idea almost instantly, as he would probably want some privacy during his time off to spend with Carolanne. While she remained aboard _Colonial One_ with her one book. Just frakking fantastic.

Bill didn't notice her inner turmoil, focusing his gaze on his large collection of books instead. He lowered his body to reach one of the lower shelves and extract a particular novel from it, with a cover Laura didn't recognize. Before she could ask about it, however, the man turned to face her, took his glasses off, cleared his throat and handed her the book.

Puzzled, she eyed the title as Bill spoke; _Dark Day_ was written in bold, golden letters against the brick-colored cover. "You still haven't read it, I assume?"

"No. I kept forgetting about this one..." she confessed. It was embarrassing, really, that a high regarded classic had slipped by her all these years.

To her surprise, Bill flashed her a soft smile. "Hope you enjoy it."

"But— didn't you just say..."

"Never lend books," he repeated, a tender tone this time. "This is a gift."

She shook her head. "No, I can't accept it."

"Please."

And her tongue suddenly felt too big for her mouth as she whispered, "Thank you." The corners of her lips twitched upwards and tears pricked her eyes, as memories stirred by Bill left a void deep in her chest she didn't know she had until now. Or perhaps it was new, she wasn't sure. But why now? She had made a decision all those years ago and _knew_ it was the right one.

Her unspoken question was met with a silence of his own. Laura brought the book close to her, chest feeling less alone than she thought she was despite the vacuum left by her sisters, by Bill, by the family home now occupied by her alone ever since her kids moved out to pursue their own future. And by the cancer, the new unwanted companion she wouldn't talk about until it was too late.

But then, the president remembered why she had come to speak to him in the first place; the awkward reality check they had to address before the fleet slipped out of control.

"A riot broke on one of the cruise ships," she blurted out, making Bill frown in concern. "Colonel Tigh was right about reducing rations."

"I see." He took off his glasses and pointed to the couch, following Laura as she took a seat. _Dark Day_ was left on the spot next to her, discarded for the time being as her hands rested on her lap.

"We need to demonstrate an ability to maintain order, and we need to do it now."

He didn't like where she was going with this. Any other president requesting the same thing would have all but declared war against civilians. "We don't have enough man power for fleet security," he murmured, which was partially true. The battlestar had been running with a smaller crew than any other ship her size before the attacks.

"You have the only armed, disciplined force available," she reasoned.

"But we're the military, not policemen." Laura hummed, tilting her head. "And there's a reason why we separate military and the police. One fights the enemy of the State, the other serves and protects the people. When the military becomes both, the enemies of the State tend to become the people."

"I'm aware. This is a complex matter, but I won't let that happen. The reality is that we don't have anyone else to protect the fleet from possible threats outside _and_ inside the ships, other than the men and women of _Galactica_." She would need to create an organized security force that didn't answer to Bill but her directly, both to keep peace within the population and to protect the president of the Colonies, but that required time she did not have at the moment. "I pray this is going to be a temporary solution, but we _need_ it right now."

She was right once again, he knew that. For a person who had never craved the power she now held, Laura was proving to be a reasonable president so far and they both knew the security personnel scattered around the fleet wasn't designed to contain the current situation. "I'll send troops to the cruise ship," he sighed.

She gently placed a hand on his arm, trying to ease his concern. "Commander, I won't let that happen. Thank you."

"I need something in return," he said, choosing to ignore the sweet tingle her warmth created as it spread through his body. A sensation she was clearly unaware of.

"Oh?"

"It's Lee," he explained. "He didn't take what happened with the _Olympic Carrier_ well."

Laura nodded. How could she forget she had tasked her son with taking down a civilian ship? She had been sleeping as little as possible to prevent the guilt —her own and Lee's— from taking hold and overwhelming her; she couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like for him. "I'll talk to him."

::::::::::

Bill went back to CIC shortly after, parting with Laura by a corridor that led her to her own ship. He noticed Saul following his movements as he approached Dee for a report on the Raptors, his XO joining him promptly to discuss the information gathered as most of the reconnaissance ships reported back. So far, the lack of findings was troublesome.

"So, what did she want?" Tigh asked as they walked to the Command and Control table in the middle of the room and waited for the last Raptor, Boomer's, to come back.

"A riot broke out on a cruise ship," he replied, not needing to take his eyes from the star charts spread over the flat surface to feel the smug smirk Saul had to suppress. Having Laura admit he was right was reward enough, given that a riot was never good news. "I'm sending a marine squad for crowd control."

The colonel's brows shot upward, the surprise plain on his face. "Sending troops against civilians doesn't sound like a good idea, Bill."

"It's not _against_ civilians, we're trying to protect them."

"Just because _she_ thinks that's the solution doesn't make it right."

Bill took a step closer and gazed harshly at his XO, their faces mere inches from each other. "Getting tired of the little war you insist on having with the president," he warned through clenched teeth. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me. Whatever your feelings towards her for my sake, you leave them for when you're _not_ wearing your uniform, understand?"

Despite the agitated look in his eyes, the man straightened in his spot without questioning him further. "Yes, sir."

He took a step back and started to regret his words immediately, knowing Saul's reaction when it came to Laura was a byproduct of his unwavering loyalty. While it was unquestionably ill-advised now that she had been sworn in as president of the Colonies, Bill could tell he was only acting as his best friend; albeit over magnifying matters and throwing his professionalism out the airlock. It wouldn't be the first time it happened, though.

Letting the air fill his lungs to their maximum capacity, Bill took a mental note to speak with the colonel in private, after they both cooled down. And preferably not in the middle of CIC. They couldn't keep going on like this; it was one thing to hate his ex-wife when she meant nothing besides that, but that was not the case anymore. "Listen—"

"Sir, DRADIS just picked up Boomer's Raptor," Dee informed, and Bill decided to leave Tigh's matter for later.

"Let's hear it." The officer nodded and pressed several buttons on her dashboard, putting the Raptor through the speakers.

" _Galactica_ , Crashdown," a male voice chimed in. "DRADIS sweeps indicate it's time to break out the swimsuits because we've found water! Repeat, positive water contact!"

The crew in CIC broke into applause everywhere, celebrating the well-earned victory. A smile broke on Bill's lips, both at the discovery of water and the ridiculous way Crashdown had chosen to break the news, and turned his head towards his XO. When their eyes met, Tigh flashed a smile of his own.

The drilling operations were required to start right away, but for the moment, he and Saul could have a drink.

::::::::::

It was just past eight in the evening, according to Laura's watch, when Lee boarded _Colonial One_ to meet her. She still didn't have the right perception of night and day that the standardized time dictated across the fleet, however, as her body was proving resilient against the lack of sunlight.

And there was the matter of her sleep schedule too, of course. Between those dreadful six days that followed their escape from Ragnar, when sleep was a comfort she couldn't have, and the next few in which she chose to remain awake whenever she could to prevent nightmares related to the _Olympic Carrier_ , she wasn't expecting to get used to the right time just yet.

And so, most of her time was spent in front of her desk, despite Billy's complaints on her health issues. It was there where her children found her, apparently having chatted all the way from the cargo bay, now fully repurposed as a landing bay for Vipers and Raptors. Lee knocked on the frame, even though the curtain was open and Laura saw them approaching, and went in after her nod and a quick goodbye to Val.

"Thank you for coming," she began, leaving her chair and meeting him half way in a keen embrace. Lee relaxed in her arms as he hugged her back and breathed heavily; their combined responsibilities had prevented them from a mother and son chat since the day before the decommissioning ceremony.

"Of course, Mom," he replied, pulling back a moment later. Laura smiled sweetly as she guided him to one of the passenger seats and took the one next to him. "Is everything okay?"

"That's exactly what I want to ask you. I know you were in charge of the mission that destroyed the _Olympic Carrier_." She spoke softly, earning a sharp surge of pain in her heart when his blue eyes gained a lifeless look when she mentioned the ship's name. "I know what a hard thing that is to live with, for all of us. I'm struggling with it myself, frankly. For giving the order and putting you in that position."

"I understand it had to be done, it's just..." he murmured swiftly, but when he didn't elaborate any further, Laura leaned closer and reached for his hands. He flashed a curt smile before admitting, "I can't stop thinking about it."

She squeezed his hands between hers in an affectionate manner. "Oh, Lee. I'm sorry. I hope you'll be able to forgive me, someday."

Lee closed his eyes and after a beat, shook his head. "I don't— there's nothing to forgive. I understand," he repeated. "Besides, a man has to accept responsibility for his actions. He doesn't second-guess the choices he makes. He lives with them, everyday."

Laura almost scoffed at the statement, it was like hearing Bill Adama in the flesh. No wonder why he had asked her to talk to their son, it was a terrible advice for this particular circumstance! Her ex-husband was a soldier to the core, while Lee was not. He wouldn't carry on with his orders without thinking them through first, and it was that particular habit that had usually evolved into guilt.

"Do you remember when Richard Adar sent marines into Aerilon? Fifteen people died," she asked instead and he nodded. It had been a tumultuous time for the president and his cabinet, her included, until the dust had settled and the media calmed down. "In public, of course, he had to say the usual things: He was sure of what he'd done, he made the right choice... but he knew it was a mistake." She took a deep breath as she tried to steady her voice without giving herself away; her words hit close to home in more ways than one. She knew that hiding her cancer to her children was a mistake, but one she had to make anyway. "He kept the names of the dead in his desk drawer. Said that it was imperative for a leader to remember and learn from their mistakes, even if they can't admit to them publicly."

Lee frowned and slowly moved his hands away. "You think we made a mistake?" She followed suit, straightening her pose for an instant before she put her fingers inside the right pocket of her jacket.

"I don't know," she confessed as she extracted a torn piece of paper and showed it to him. Although her handwriting was shaky, the words _Olympic Carrier_ could still be read. "I don't have a desk drawer yet, but I have a pocket."

His grin, while soft, lighted up the room in Laura's eyes. She longed to hug him once more but restrained herself from another affectionate gesture, at least until they had discussed the second topic she had in mind. Instead, she crossed her legs and rested an elbow on top of them, leaning forward.

"I know my fair bit of the military, but I'm acutely aware I'm not one of you. So, I feel the necessity to appoint a personal military advisor," she told him. "You'd be my first choice, but we both know I can't have you. And I don't want to add to your burdens either." Lee chuckled at her choice of words and she flickered a smile as well.

"Well, uhm, my father is the senior military officer. He should advice you," he mentioned awkwardly.

"Oh no, I don't mean to go behind his back," she was quick to amend, shaking her head. "Nothing like that. I'm not looking for military advice, but rather advice about the military. I know what a Viper is, what your pips and wings represent, and even dealt with the admiralty back in the Colonies," she recounted, "but I have little insight about military life. I need to change that, and perhaps even change my overall impression." She grimaced at that, failing to make a joke as she had originally intended. Lee and his siblings had grown up knowing the reason of their parent's divorce, so what was the point anyway? "All I need is a candidate."

"And this is where I come along," he guessed and Laura hummed affirmatively. Remaining in silence for a while, he mentally listed all his pilots' names until he realized there was only one he could suggest. After all, she was the person he knew the most from the battlestar's Air Wing, having met the rest just a over a week before. "Lieutenant Kara Thrace." He spoke with complete certainty. "She's not your usual pilot, but still believes in doing what's right. And she's been on probation more times than she should, _Galactica_ was her only chance at an assignment. I think you'll like her."

Laura smiled again. "All right." But then, something tingled in recognition at the back of her head. "Where have I heard that name before?" she mused aloud.

With a guilty look, Lee admitted, "Yeah... She was Zak's girlfriend." Lee decided not to describe her as his _fiancé_ , since he was aware his brother never got the chance to tell her. And he knew it was the right choice when she parted her lips in surprise, as if to say something, but nothing came out and she closed her mouth again. It was better that way. "Dad met her at the service and offered her a spot when he learned that no other battlestar would take her in," he explained.

"She must be close to your father," Laura reasoned, no longer convinced about it.

"It doesn't make a difference, does it?" He wasn't even going to deny it, it was too obvious for that. "She found a family in the military, but that doesn't stop her from voicing her opinion whenever she can. She's perfect for the job."

Her lips pursed, Laura evaluated her options in her mind. And despite her caution regarding Bill's relationship with this Kara, her curiosity got the better of her as she finally had the chance to meet her. "Okay. Tell her to come as soon as possible. Thank you."

::::::::::

This time, Laura awaited her visitor seated at her desk, her glasses low on her nose's bridge as she read a report from the _Rising Star_. Kara, dressed in the same blue uniform Lee wore during his own trip to the presidential ship, came to a halt before the curtain door, an unsure look plastered on her face.

Laura locked eyes with her over the rim of her glasses. "Come in," she said, her eyes following her as the pilot closed the distance between them. It was the young woman who had been by Bill's side during Zak's funeral, she could still remember her pretty features obscured by puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Laura had been unable to follow a conversation that day, however, so they hadn't exchanged a single word during the ceremony. "Please, take a seat." Kara did as she was told. "I must admit my surprise when I learned you were here, Lieutenant Thrace, but thank the Gods you were. It is very nice to meet you, at last."

There was a flicker of shock on her face, but she recovered quickly. "You know who I am?"

"Yes. And what you meant to Zak."

"Is that why I'm here?" she asked, growing uncomfortable in her seat. Laura ignored her demeanor and shook her head slightly.

"No. I need advice on the military, and Captain Adama suggested your name. I want you to be my advisor."

"Why me?"

"Because I need insight into military life. And you seem to have a particular one, since I was informed about your _brushes_ with authority."

"I've had a few," she accepted, smirking shamelessly as she finally appeared to relax. But her expression died as hastily as it came to be when she continued, "But I can't. Ma'am."

"Why? You can keep your day job with the pilots," she assured her. "Or is it about Zak?"

Kara shook her head, a little too quickly for her taste, giving the impression it _was_ about her son after all. "It's not," she replied, and Laura decided not to push it for now. "I owe the Old Man a great deal, I can't work for you and him at the same time. It's... awkward."

Sighing, she took her glasses off and left them on the desk, near her elbow, and entwined her fingers over the hard surface. "We've managed to work with each other despite what happened between us. So can you."

"You're not taking a no for an answer, are you?"

"Not if I can help it, no."

"Okay. Okay, I'll accept it if you answer me some questions," she murmured. "Don't like them, don't answer. And I won't work for you," she finished, bolder than what Laura had taken her for. She should have expected it, though, by the amount of reports Lee claimed she had.

The president agreed to her terms with a nod. "Go ahead."

"Did you love him?"

The simplicity of it almost took Laura by surprise, and made her wonder where the younger woman was going with all this. "Of course I did. I married him."

"Then why did you leave him?" she asked next.

In any other situation, Kara's venture into her personal life would have been incredibly rude, but she found herself wanting to give at least a short explanation of her side of the story to her. As the woman who held Zak's heart until his death, she wanted the lieutenant to _know_ about her in her own words and not Bill's opinion, or even her sons'.

"It wasn't lack of love. We didn't end our marriage in bad terms. Just, eventually, we had irreconcilable differences that couldn't be patched up."

But Kara wasn't convinced. "With all due respect, ma'am, that sounds like a polite bunch of crap."

Laura snorted, sprawling her body against the back of her cushioned seat. She then crossed her arms and gazed at the irreverent pilot with an incredibly neutral look in her eyes. She wasn't mad, even though she had enough cause to be. "You don't know what it's like to wake up one day and realize the path you're travelling is miles away from the guy sleeping next to you, and only seeing it then," she offered. "Is it enough of a reason now?"

"Y-yeah." She was startled about the sudden confession, Laura realized. The young officer had a long way to go on those matters, and while she wouldn't count herself out yet, she had learned a great deal on her failed marriage and the relationships that had come after that. "I'm sorry," Kara said then, perhaps as a reflex, or perhaps she did feel it.

"I suppose it's only fair. You're within your right to learn about Zak's family with everything that has happened. Now that we're here." She uncrossed her arms again and gestured around, the remnants of the passenger liner that now served as a presidential vessel. "It seems that it took the end of the world for Adama and me to speak again."

"We didn't know it then, during the decommissioning," Kara mumbled, conceivably more to herself, and Laura didn't correct her. But to her and Bill, the end of the world had come some time before the Cylons' return: he was about to leave his beloved life, the military, and she had received the news of her cancer.

"Is this your standard procedure upon meeting your superiors? Interrogating them about their personal lives?" she asked instead with a glint of humor. It had the desired effect, as Kara flashed her a genuine smile.

"No, ma'am, they usually tell me on their own," she joked. Laura wasn't sure whether it was true or not, but before she made a plan to get her to elaborate, the lieutenant added, "And everybody knows about Tigh's wife. That mess is hardly a secret."

She nodded again, knowing when not to push her luck. "So, are you going to be my advisor?"

Kara took a slow, deep breath. "I guess I will."

"Perfect," she said, and smiled.

Kara mirrored the gesture with less conviction, and waited until Laura dismissed her to rise to her feet and walk out of the room. The older woman followed her departure until she turned the corner with a certain curiosity, not knowing what to think about her. Was she nervous because she was a stranger? Because she happened to be Zak's mother? Or because she saw her as a rival of her commanding officer? Whatever it was, at least she had procured a military advisor according to plan. Lieutenant Thrace would certainly help her achieve less misunderstandings with Bill from now on.

Laura stood up as well in the direction of her private quarters, another area stripped of its original purpose to accommodate for the new needs of the people on board. After changing into her nightclothes, she slipped under the covers of the sofa that had become her bunk, grabbed _Dark Day_ and opened it on the first page. The book had no handwritten message, which Laura didn't expect anyway, but evoked some others that did to her memory after seeing them earlier. Despite the quick inspection of Bill's bookshelf, she was sure all the books she had gifted him were there. All filled with a few words in her calligraphy and some of them mementos of her own time with her father and sisters.

As she began reading and fell asleep, still wearing her glasses and hugging the book above her middle, her thoughts drifted into dreams that selfishly made their way towards Bill and her deceased family.


	16. The distance between you and me, part 5

This update has been long overdue, and I apologize for that. These past months have been crazy at work, so of course writer's block came back just in time. Really sorry for the delay!

Also notice the change in rating, and yes, it is because of what you're thinking. While it's not explicit, if you're not comfortable reading sexual content you may skip from wherever point you want until the following break and you won't miss anything crucial for the story.

Enjoy!

* * *

 _There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment._

::::::::::

 **Caprica City  
28 years before the Fall**

"That is a beautiful combination," he mentioned, and Laura hummed in agreement. They had stopped before a ring where two men, clad in boxing gloves, moved in slow circles around each other as if testing the waters— until one of them struck, catching the other one in the jaw. "Just look at that jab."

"You think Craig can keep up, Dad?" she asked. Craig was taller and a little bulkier, and yet he barely stood his ground as the other man had him all but cornered in seconds. It was unexpected, to see him on the receiving end for once.

Smirking, Edward Roslin shook his head. "Grew overconfident."

"Which is why it's good to have new faces around here," a familiar voice said behind them, and when Laura turned to face it, she discovered the owner of the gym with a wide smile on his face. "Someone needed to take the kid down already." The man referred to all the amateur boxers at his gym as _kids_ , even though most of them were well past adulthood; Laura was sure Craig was already in his thirties, for instance.

Despite his assessment Laura recognized some of the other faces around; the other two rings were occupied as well, along with some of the heavy bags at her right. Accompanying her father to the boxing gym was one of her favorite activities, letting her get acquainted with many of its regulars.

And so she walked around, leaving her father to talk with his friend for a bit, taking the thick atmosphere of sweat and exertion in. There was something relaxing about boxing, the absolute freedom that could only come from punching something, _someone_ for the sake of it; she had never practiced herself but she didn't need to in order to feel a similar adrenaline rush.

"Didn't know there'd be an audience today." A breathless, strange voice made her look around and discover a handsome man in his early thirties working one of the bags, with sun-kissed skin, deep blue eyes, black hair and a ridiculous mustache that partially hid a smug smile. His voice was deep and Laura thought him a smoker at first, but there was no way he could keep up if he did; the tank top and shorts he wore revealed just how regularly he worked out. Even when she had never seen him before.

She smiled too as she took him in. "Is that why you're showing off?" she joked and he chuckled, still punching the bag. The rich sound went straight to her legs, threatening to turn them into butter. "That jab and hook combo is impressive."

He stopped then, raising his brows with interest. "Pretty and knows boxing, lucky me."

"My father is an avid fan, and I love my father," she explained simply.

"And you know how to box too?"

"No, I just watch."

"Wanna learn? I can teach you."

It was tempting, but she knew what her answer should be. Shaking her head, she asked, "Perhaps some other time?"

"If you give me your number, sure. And name," he chuckled again. "I'm Bill."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Laura."

By the time Edward looked for her to leave, about half an hour later, Bill had all but forgotten the heavy bag and instead, was sitting on a nearby bench with his redheaded company. Laura noticed her father and raised to her feet with a sigh.

"I have to go," she announced. However, she searched the pockets of her jeans and found an old receipt, where she wrote her phone number down. "Call me."

He gave her a half smile. "Roger that."

Laura nodded and smiled too before joining her father by the door of the gym. He greeted her with an unreadable expression on his face. "Who was that?"

"A new friend of mine," she answered, nonchalantly, as she tied her hair into a high ponytail. "Name's Bill."

"So, a _friend_." Edward was not convinced, but his nod made her think he was willing to let it go. She was wrong. "I saw you laughing, so I assume he's a nice guy. But Laurie, I don't want you marrying a boxer. Please."

"Dad, I just _met_ him," she reminded him. "Of course I'm not marrying him."

::::::::::

Bill wasted no time by asking Laura for a date the next weekend.

They had agreed on meeting at 7 PM, after she was done with her classes for the day, and Bill arrived at her apartment complex eight minutes before the time carrying a bouquet of red flowers in his hand. He tapped the buzzer anyway and she let him in, along with a couple of instructions to find her place.

Making use of the elevator, Bill arrived at the fourth floor and turned right, just like Laura had told him. The door from apartment 4B was left ajar and he went through, staying by the entrance as he made his presence known.

"Laura? I'm here."

"One minute!" Her voice came from where he supposed the bedroom was. "Make yourself at home."

He decided to spend his time exploring her living room. Laura's place was small, and it didn't help that the bookshelves took more space that the couch she owned; the furniture made it feel cramped. But the impressive amount of books drew a fond smile on Bill's face, realizing this girl was even more interesting that he had thought.

There was a small television set sitting on top of an old trunk across from the couch, with bookcases flanking either side. It was then when he noticed more books placed on to the top of each case, and as his gaze travelled around the room, he saw there was at least one book on almost every available surface, including her tiny, round dining table with two chairs, and in almost every available genre.

A soft click of heels announced Laura's arrival, her sight widening Bill's grin. Having chosen a casual blue dress and black pumps, with no coat due to the summer weather, her dark red hair stood out even shinier as it framed her gorgeous face. Her emerald eyes glinted with excitement.

"You look beautiful in that dress," he greeted her and she mirrored his smile, closing the distance to kiss his cheek. Then, he presented the flowers. "These are for you."

"You're quite handsome yourself, mister, thank you. I'll put them in water." She then gestured at her books as she made her way to the kitchen. "Found something interesting?"

"A few," he admitted. He added when she came back, "Got any favorites?"

Laura nodded. "I just finished _Death of Night_ by Nick Taylo. And loved it."

"His writing style has improved since _The Secret Adversary_ ," he agreed, making Laura grin.

"You've read it too."

"Yeah, I enjoy his books." There was plain delight on her face and he felt the urge to kiss her, but decided it was too soon for that and cleared his throat instead. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, let's go."

Bill had picked a restaurant near her apartment, allowing them to walk the short distance there. Accepting the idea, she admitted she had never tried it despite how close it was and therefore was eager to fix it.

They arrived at the place, chose a table and a waiter promptly delivered the menu. Offering a wide array of plates from all twelve colonies, the amount of offered choices was overwhelming, and Laura scanned the whole menu before returning to the page she knew best, where the Caprican delicacies were listed.

Bill seemed to sense how of out of her depth she was as he said, "Have you ever tried the Tauron noodles?"

She shook her head. "You're Tauron, right?"

"No. I was born in Caprica, but my parents are Tauron," he explained. "Then you should. But you gotta know there's only one way to eat them and you have to be willing to commit to it if you order them."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," she joked, tilting her head to the side in a way she knew she only did when she flirted with someone. And her reward was a wide, yet cocky grin from Bill.

"You can't just spin them around a fork or cut them down, gotta slurp 'em," he sentenced, and while his smile never faltered, she could tell he was dead serious.

"Oh, my." A single giggle escaped from her mouth before Laura bit her lower lip while she thought about it. She didn't want to refuse in case it somehow became an insult to his heritage, but at the same time, she didn't want to make a mess during a first date. "I don't know if I should..."

"C'mon, you have to try them. It'll be fun. Trust me."

Realizing she trusted him already, Laura nodded. "All right, noodles it is."

His smile softened as he mirrored her nod, and caught the attention of a waiter to make the order along with a bottle of wine.

When the bowls arrived, Bill held his fork first, instructing Laura on how to eat them appropriately. It was as ridiculous as it was fun, leaving more than half the length of each noodle hanging from the fork and slurping them as loudly as possible. Laura had never seen someone eat as noisily as Bill, but she found herself imitating his every move —and therefore his noise as well—, and laughing wholeheartedly every time she got it right. In his defense, she had never had a Tauron meal anyway.

"So. I already told you I'm a teacher, but I don't know what you do," she asked a while after Bill had praised what a good pupil she was by getting hang of _the slurping technique_ this quickly. They had already finished their main course and were waiting for dessert.

"I work at a merchant freighter, the _Sedulana_. We transport cargo from and to Caprica."

Her heart sank, but she reached for her wine glass and took a sip to hide her expression. "I see. You don't stay in Caprica all year long?" She was having fun and Bill had been a wonderful guy so far, she was certainly expecting to have a second date with him.

"Each trip usually takes only a few days, we mostly travel to Gemenon," he told her. "Longer distances are covered by vessels with FTL capabilities."

"I see, that makes sense." _Thank the Gods_ , she thought. "So, did you always want to be a..." What _was_ he, exactly? Her knowledge about ships was precarious at best, so she continued as best as she could. "Crew member of a merchant ship?"

He chuckled. "No. Truth is, I didn't know what to do after the war."

"Oh, you fought the Cylons?" The beginning of the Cylon War was among her first memories and raged almost until her late teens, so it made sense that Bill had participated on some level, as he was clearly a few years older than her. Truth was, he wasn't the first veteran she had met, even less dated.

"I did. And since I got mustered out of service after the armistice, I had to find something else." He paused. "All I cared was getting back out there. In space. This was the closest I got and I can't complain," he murmured then, shrugging.

Despite his detached gesture, she saw the passion in his beautiful blue eyes as he talked about space and it made her smile. Bill didn't care what he had to do in order to be off planet for just days at a time, it was adorable— it was in that moment that Laura realized she wanted him. He was entertaining, intelligent —if his familiarity with books and their multiple conversations were anything to go by—, handsome, and made her laugh, often with the most unexpected things like his Tauron noodles. And never mind _his voice_ — she felt her stomach flip each time he chuckled. She had found the diamond of first impressions in Bill.

Still, she needed to ignore the impulse to jump him in the middle of the restaurant. He seemed to notice a change in her demeanor and she disguised it again behind her glass while she composed herself. "Ex-military, then?" Laura mused. "Why? Why the military?"

"There was a war."

"There has to be more than that," she murmured. "You decided to risk your life when you were barely an adult. It can't be this straightforward."

He nodded but explained no further. "Why did you want to become a teacher?"

"You're changing the subject," she accused.

"Yeah, but you'll see where I'm going with it."

"Okay," she agreed. "Well, my mom was a teacher, and I grew up seeing her students being _inspired_ by her as much as I was. I wanted to change lives like she did. Children's lives." Her expression lightened, the fond memories of her mother flooding her mind. "I wanted to help others."

"Exactly. I wanted to help others too."

His answer was so simple, so _perfect_ by turning it over to her and letting her see that he had the same altruistic drive as she did, that she was left speechless.

 _Gods_ , she wanted him.

::::::::::

The sky remained clear as they walked back to her apartment building, and rather than settling for a comfortable silence, Laura asked if he could name the constellations they saw. With a smile, Bill pointed to several twinkling stars and told her about the resulting shapes by connecting the dots. It was such a lovely way to pass the time that before she noticed, they had arrived to her door.

"I had a great time," she assured him, taking one step towards the door and turning back to face him. "Thank you for the lovely evening."

Bill grinned at that and the gesture made her knees grow weak. "You're welcome, Laura. I had a great time too."

Instead of saying his goodbyes, Bill darted his sight to her lips and then back at her eyes, and she realized he was asking her permission to kiss her. It warmed her heart.

Emerald eyes shimmering in the night, Laura closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his, a soft weight that propelled him to draw her closer, spreading his fingers to span her back; she answered in kind as her hands brushed his neck and settled into his hair, pulling his lips to hers over and over again, sinking into his mouth with a pleasant hum. Her mouth opened as his tongue traced the curve of her lip and brushed over her own lightly, both forgetting they were still on the street that led to her apartment as they explored each other's mouth without rush.

When they came back for air, the identical smiles they wore resonated as though the air was filled with sparks, dancing across their faces, and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear the shadows from her vision. Perhaps it was the lack of breath.

"Do you want to come up?" Laura blurted. She was still in Bill's arms, his hands a small but firm caress on her back, while her own held fast to his neck. Then, noticing how it sounded, she amended, "For coffee." It wasn't the best excuse she could have come up with and she still wasn't sure if she had the guts to go through with an invitation to her bed on a first date, but she wasn't ready to say goodbye after all. For now though, she knew _exactly_ why she was inviting him up for. And it wasn't coffee. "Or tea, if you prefer tea."

Bill's eyes widened for an instant, and had she not been as close she would have missed it. His surprise was obvious, however, and Laura was on the verge of back-pedaling her offer by making up some lame excuse about how it had already been a long night when he muttered, "Sure. Coffee s'okay."

A shiver ran down her spine as limbs were disentangled from one another and she searched inside her purse for the key, turning it into the locking mechanism of the door to provide entrance. She licked her lips as she led the way and the action gave her enough confidence to keep true to her plan: she could still taste him.

As he followed behind, Bill wondered her intentions as well. The first thought that came to his mind was pretty obvious and yet he didn't want to assume anything in case he was wrong, he wouldn't forgive himself if he never got to go out with her again. And so, he chose to remain quiet while he entered the elevator after Laura, despite the furtive glances she gave him during the ride. Once inside her apartment, however, she seemed all business.

"I'll go get the coffee machine. Make yourself at home," she offered, gesturing towards her living room. "Don't worry about moving... books around. Sorry about that," she giggled.

A soft smile on his lips, Bill murmured, "Thanks," before settling on the couch by himself; Laura's steps disappeared as she walked to the kitchen, and he was left all alone to peek at her books again. However, after a while, he heard Laura curse and got back to his feet in her search. "Is everything okay?"

He found her bent over the lower cabinets, mumbling under her breath. It gave him a perfect view of her bare legs, the hem of her dress ridden up by her leaning and Bill swallowed hard. After what felt like an eternity, she grabbed something he couldn't see —or _didn't_ want to, as he was otherwise occupied looking somewhere else— and with a triumphant noise, rose again and beamed him a smile when she realized he was there. If she had noticed him staring, she didn't mention it.

"Found it," she informed him, dangling a coffee bag in front of her.

"Want any help?"

She nodded. "Get me the scissors from that drawer, please."

He did as instructed and she managed to open the bag to dump a few spoonfuls of coffee into the machine, and as the toasted aroma filled the kitchen, Laura hummed in approval. "I think you'll like this blend. I've been saving this for a special occasion." Still talking, she moved to plug the coffee maker and Bill murmured his agreement. "Hope it's not too strong for you, although I can heat up some water too, if you want. How do you like your coff—?"

In her rambling, Laura had fail to notice how close he was now, curious about the bag she had just opened; when she turned back Bill was virtually in front of her, and her mind lost the ability to form words. Eyes locked with each other, they both moved in unison, lips clashing against lips in a frenzy. She pressed him against her and he kissed her harder, pinning her between his body and the counter with his hands on her hips, and she wound her arms around his shoulders with a delighted little hum from the back of her throat.

He tried shifting slightly to prevent her from feeling the growing hardness in his pants, but Laura held him fast against her as their tongues danced with each other, and until the need for air forced them apart. Then their eyes met again and she stifled a nervous giggle, him chuckling in response.

"Still want that coffee?" she asked, her battered breath similar to his own.

"...No."

"Thank the Gods."

She kissed him once more, more urgency this time. It was messier, Bill pressing her against the counter in an almost vain effort of keeping her even closer to him as her hands wandered down his arms and to his back, her nails gently scratching over the fabric of his shirt. That was all the encouragement he needed to explore in turn, helping her hop onto the counter before settling his hands over her thighs and spreading her legs so he could get in between them and rocked his hips against her, skin meeting skin as he rolled the hem of her dress up to her underwear. A moan busted from her parted lips when his mouth found her neck, nipping softly at her pulse point, his moustache tickling her skin, and it took all her fleeting willpower to reach behind her, without even looking, to unplug the coffee maker. As long as they didn't burn her place down, her special blend of coffee was the last thing in her mind at that moment.

Succeeding, her hands returned to Bill and traveled along his chest, searching for the shirt's buttons. She plucked three of them open and slid her delicate fingers inside, earning a deep growl from him. His skin was smooth, hairless, warm, and she needed more; she needed _all_ of him. "Bedroom," she murmured against his ear, sending a bolt of desire directly to his groin.

He felt Laura's hands leaving his chest and then gently pushing him away. While reluctant to let her go, he tugged at her earlobe and satisfied with her whimper, he turned to press a kiss on the corner of her mouth and stepped away. The woman hopped down from the counter, took his hand and guided him to her bedroom.

Once inside, Bill found a double bed made of dark wood with a pale cover that took most of the space available, along with a matching nightstand on one side. He barely registered a shelf full of portraits, dimly coated by the light coming from outside the window, when Laura stopped by the door to remove her heels and leave them there, and he wondered if he should do the same.

But then, she walked half way to her bed and looked at him over her shoulder. "Help me with the dress?" she asked, a half smile painted on her lips.

Approaching her agonizingly slowly, his hands shaking with anticipation, Bill moved her hair out of the way and reached for the zipper, pulling it down completely. He got glimpse of a white bra still clinging to her perfect, pale back and that's when it hit him: it was actually going to happen. His pants felt even tighter against his erection and his mouth went dry.

Laura turned to face him then, her shiny emerald eyes dancing with excitement and a beautiful hue of pink in her cheeks as she searched for his mouth, and Bill kissed her again, slipping his thumbs under the straps of her dress and pulling it down over her shoulders. She moaned against his lips as her hands finished her quest of opening his shirt, getting it half out of his pants in the process, and tugged at his belt with trembling fingers of her own when he kissed along her jaw. The lingering touch on her pulse point made her shiver; against her heated skin, Bill's facial hair was coarse, his lips were soft, his tongue scorching.

His mouth trailed across her shoulder as she managed to get his belt open, pushing his pants down his hips, and let out a soft cry as he cupped her breast, squeezing gently. Nails digging into his skin, she clung to his bare shoulders as she took a step backwards and dragged him along, then another one, and another one, until she stood by the edge of the mattress.

With a final kiss to his temple, Laura lowered herself on the bed, her flaming red hair spreading over the pillow like a ring of fire around her face, the rising and lowering of her breasts in tandem with her battered breath, her arms reaching for him. He felt drunk on the vibrant green of her eyes and his chest ached, that beautiful hurt that came with the knowledge that she wanted him there as she pulled him down on top of her.

He kissed her again, his lips gently pulling at hers and coaxing her into arching her back to give him better access to the clasp of her bra; his fingertips trailed her spine as he found the garment and unhooked it, retreating then to take it off. The sight that welcomed him was better than he'd imagined and Laura caught glimpse of his smile as he lowered and nuzzled her neck, making her moan. His hand cupped her breast almost at the same time as hers found his erection and traced it through his boxers, humming approvingly as Bill's breath caught in his throat.

Pushing her back on the bed, he began to kiss down her neck, breathing in her scent, her perfume reminiscent of vanilla and raspberries. He could feel her heart thumping as he kissed down her chest, and she arched up to him as his mouth closed over her nipple. Laura moaned, her fingers tangling into his hair as he worked his way to the other breast, his tongue flickering across her skin, sucking gently as her sounds and whimpers filled his ears.

Bill's hand slipped between them and trailed down, past her belly and over the hollow of her navel until he reached the remaining of her underwear. His eyes searched for hers and found her chewing at her lower lip as she stared back in anticipation, and that was all the confirmation he needed to slip his fingers under the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her legs and off at her feet.

He found the wetness between her legs and she closed her eyes at the touch, frustratingly delicate as he measured her reactions until he withdrew just enough to rub at her clit, eliciting a groan from her. She rocked her hips against his hand and he added a second finger, her warmth around him, welcoming him. Clinging to his shoulders, too much and yet nowhere near enough, he watched her face contorting beautifully as the litany of mewls and moans grew louder, more desperate, her breath coming in heaves.

Then her body stiffened and she saw flashes of light behind her eyelids, her back arched and taut against him. He kissed her down from her high until she fell back on the mattress with a sigh and blinked up at him, pleasure still a riot in her veins, the icy fire in his eyes brighter than before. A lazy smile drawn on her lips, her palm cradled his cheek and he leaned into her touch.

"Bill," she whispered, her voice jagged, drawing him in for another kiss. Her hands explored the planes of his chest, tracing down across his belly and wrapping around his cock and Bill groaned into her mouth as she slipped it underneath the grey fabric to stroke him. His hips thrust against her hand and with a smile, she reached for the edge of the boxers and tugged them down, kicking them past his knees with his help.

Laura eyed him then and bit her lip, but when she tried to touch him again he caught her wrist and brought it to his lips, planting a soft kiss there. "Not now," he rasped and she nodded in understanding. When Bill released her hand, she hoisted herself up on her elbows to get to her nightstand and the box of condoms she kept there and give it to him; he took one out and knelt properly to put it on.

Skin still tingling pleasantly, she lay back down on the cool sheets, waiting for him to return, and she opened her body, her soul, her everything without hesitation when he curled over her and settled down between her legs.

Her lust driven smile made him shiver, but Bill simply lowered his head, cupped her face and kissed her. Despite his breath coming in short puffs, he willed the world to a halt as Laura's arms encased his neck and she lifted a leg to wrap it around his waist, clinging to him like a frail boat lost at sea.

"Please," she encouraged him, and the word was enough to have him surging forward, sinking into her easily and Laura's back arched off the bed, her breasts pressing against his chest.

Bill nuzzled her neck as he withdrew and pushed in again, and again and again in a steady, gentle rhythm, and she raked her fingernails down his back as she met his thrusts and rocked her hips against him. His every move lit his nerves on fire and spread amazing, breathtaking, tingling tendrils of pleasure through his veins; and judging by the grip on his back, her nails scoring his skin, and the words he swallowed with a kiss, she felt it too.

His hand traveled to her thigh and she answered by lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, hooking her ankles behind his back. The new angle made them groan and Bill picked up the pace, her strangled gasps mingling with his low, wailing grunts, his forehead pressed against hers. He wanted to close his eyes, to lose himself in the feel of her for a little while, but at the same time he wanted to see her, her beautiful eyes and her flushed cheeks and the way her lips contorted by her mewls and whimpers.

He felt the moment when her control gave out, and the intensity of it sent another crashing wave of pleasure through his body. Feelings soared through him, turning his blood on fire and stealing the breath from his lungs as her voice gave out, cracking as she tried to say his name one last time. It was then when his movements became erratic, and Bill's hips finally stilled and pressed into hers, pinning Laura to the mattress as he buried himself inside her as deep as he could.

He sucked in a long, harsh breath and collapsed onto his elbows above her, his face buried in her hair as she stroked his arm, his shoulder, his back. The sweat on his skin began to cool and he raised himself to search for her eyes, hoping to find the absolute bliss that he was sure inhabited his. And he did.

She lifted her head and pressed a kiss to his mouth, then plopped back down onto her pillow with a sated smile. Then raised a hand and brushed a line from his jaw up to his cheek, cradling his face. "Will you stay tonight?" she asked, sweetly, her voice still hoarse from exertion.

"If you'll have me." Reluctantly, slowly, he pulled out and rolled off of her, and got up to the adjacent bathroom to get rid of the condom. When he came back she had already pulled back the sheets and was waiting for him underneath them, where he joined her and gently drew her into his side. "I won't get much sleep tonight, will I?"

Laughing, Laura shook her head against his shoulder. "Some, I suppose. Unless you want to leave after all."

He nuzzled the top of her head and let out a small chuckle. "Not a chance."

::::::::::

Bill and Laura's second date took place a week later, when she suggested a movie they could go together. It was sweet and tender, and to his delight, she searched for his hand before they walked to their seats and as they left the cinema.

The third date, however, was back at his place. And there is a saying about the third date, isn't it? Bill cooked for her, they had a couple of glasses of wine over a talk about the places he had visited during the war and her time at the University of Virgon, and they made love thrice over the night.

She woke up several times during the early morning as well, and each time she found herself disoriented in an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar sheets and the solid weight of an arm slung around her waist, the rest of the body flush against her back. She didn't like sharing a bed and in her sleep, she had tried to escape from his grip by scooting to the edge of the mattress, only for him to follow her, for Bill's arm to tighten around her waist, pulling her back against him. She usually made a point of not getting attached, and yet she had already broken her rule twice around Bill: sleeping alone and in her own bed at the end of the night, no matter what.

But she couldn't bring herself to care.

When she woke up again, daylight poured through the window and the other side of the bed was cold and empty. But the unmistakable scent of coffee gave her a clue about his whereabouts, and she got up to find him, grabbing her underwear and throwing the shirt Bill had worn the day before over herself, now discarded on his bedroom floor. It wasn't long enough to reach the lower end of her thighs as she was almost as tall as Bill, but it was enough to cover her modesty. And she was starving.

A radiant, relaxed smile greeted her when he saw her as he stood next to the kitchen isle, stirring a bowl lazily while watching television. "Morning," he said, his voice raspy and deep and still sleepy, and she sat on one of the twin stools in front of him as she reached up for a kiss. "Are you hungry?"

She grinned. "Famished."

Chuckling, he laid down the bowl and walked to a cabinet, took a mug out, just like the one he was using, and filled it with coffee from the nearby machine. Then, he gave it to Laura and she cradled it in her hands.

"Hope you like pancakes."

"I do," she assured him. But as he turned towards the heated pan on the stove, she took a sip and murmured, "Hmm, it's cold."

Bill approached her again, his brows knitted together. "What?" She didn't have time to answer as he took the mug back and tasted it for himself, returning it immediately afterwards. "Perfectly warm for me."

" _Perfectly_? Bill, drop an ice cube in it and there would be no change. How is this perfectly warm?" she retorted.

"Fine. Lukewarm, then." He smirked.

Laura rolled her eyes as she tried to hide her amusement before taking another gulp of the chilly coffee after all; funny enough that was the first batch of coffee they actually shared, Bill leaving before breakfast after their first date. She didn't know how unaccustomed he was to _real_ hot beverages before. And yet, it was shocking how quickly she had stumbled into this domestic normalcy with him, having breakfast together in his kitchen and wearing his shirt; those blue eyes seemingly able to pierce through her emotional armor.

Some part of her cursed inwardly, aghast at how easy Bill had found a way past her defenses.

The rest of Laura, however, decided to worry about it later.

Instead, she turned around to watch the broadcast she had somewhat interrupted with her arrival, and found a pyramid game well underway. A rerun by the looks of it, the Picon Panthers versus the Sagittaron Archers.

"Rooting for someone?" she asked then. Laura didn't follow any pyramid team, not really, but she enjoyed the Buccaneers from time to time since they were her home team.

"Yeah, the Panthers. Best team in the league."

She hummed, curious about what he saw in them over any of the Caprican squads, or even the Tauron ones. And a moment later, when Bill placed a couple of plates on the isle filled with pancakes and syrup, and brought his own coffee as he took the stool next to hers, he found her smiling, the cup half empty in her hands.

She didn't look at him, still fixed on the game as she said, "You know, I could get used to this."

"To what?" he asked.

His voice drew her in, green eyes finding his. "This. Panthers' games and cold coffee."

The smile on his face, soft and intense at the same time, almost knocked the air out of her lungs.

"Good. You do that."


End file.
